Blood and Bullets
by Chilo
Summary: AU . Syaoran works for the Chinese government as a professional assassin. Sakura is his equivalent, but Japanese. A war rages between both countries. They're enemies, but both share a "common" purpose. Rated for mainly violence and language. SxS ExT
1. War

A/N: Well, hey everyone! 'tis be Chilo. A quick apology for those who have put me on author's alert to learn that this isn't a Chrono Crusade story, but I have mentioned earlier that Chrono Crusade isn't that big for me. I've nearly run out of muse for it, but my love for the anime will never die. Anywho, I'm going to start on a Card Captor Sakura story. I'm really trying to get some originality into this, so please tell me how I'm doing. So, this takes place in an alternative universe. Sorry if some of the facts are a little awkward, something doesn't make sense, or if there's any misspellings.

Just to be on the safe side, I rated this fic for violence and later chapters.

**Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP, not me.**

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**Chapter I**

**War**

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Blistering bustles of gunshots sounded in a rhythmic cord in the distance. The rumbling of the earth wasn't uncommon. Footsteps echoed in the atmosphere with an exhausted pace, often sloppily trotting over the mud underfoot. Small fires blazed in corners, slowly growing and eating everything around each individual spark, leaving black death behind them. Blood soaked the floors, lifeless bodies spreading out among the horrid, trampled dirt. Movement was only seen in the shadows, shells from all sorts of rifles scattered on the floor. No one dared take a step into the open. Trapped, for this battle.

A result of an attack gone bad for one side, yet good for another.

But, one couldn't say it was going entirely out of plan.

They were protecting their leaders, an honorable thing to do. Those higher-up were to escape with their valuable information. They were to die for their country, yet were serving it the fullest they can. Suicidal soldiers sure to earn a great name for their families, even if they lay dead on the cold floor. To imagine they were wasting their lives for a war that could have been prevented. A war that had no use. No real purpose. It was said that as long as there were humans, there'd be war. How very true that statement was.

Amber pools carefully inspected his surroundings. Three marksmen, a recon unit in standby, and the order for open fire.

These obstacles were in the way of his mission objective. This would definitely not do.

He had already passed two different stages of battles. He was standing at the heart of it all. The entire reason this battle had been started.

You can't always trust what you hear, even if it is from a close ally. Japanese turning on Japanese. Was there really a reason for it? A solid, understandable viewpoint that caused this blood-drenched battle? He grunted in frustration, but kept a steady vibe.

He spectated the unit just about ten and a half yards from him. Their attitude, despite their fate, was that of confidence and strength. As they turned their cover to take fire, he didn't need a second glance back at them. He focused on crossing the way, hiding himself beneath the shadows casted by the falling sun. The close shots sent a boost of adrenaline through him. How he longed for that fiery sensation.

Just a few mind-crushing heartbeats later, he had crossed the clearing unseen. He smashed his back into the jagged wooden wall behind him, clenching onto his dagger hilt. The agent's breath quickened. Now wasn't the time. He regained composure, carefully moving his boots parallel to the dampened flooring. A dim lighting lit his path. He was flanked by two walls, both towering upwards in a static manner. An up-tight beep sounded from his ear piece. He had arrived at the approximate longitude and latitude point for his mission objective. The dim light radiating from the room cloaked over as figures shuffled inside. Then, after a minute's wait, life seemed no more. Hastily, he located an opening; a shackled door, trash piling around the entrance. He carefully traced his gloved fingers down the door's rough metal. He pulled his multi-tool from his utility belt, carefully carving it along the very crack of the door. Then, a light snip told him he'd caught the wire. Rigged doors didn't work for him.

Cautiously, the door rolled open on its hinges. He, indeed, spotted a charge nearby. The charge that would have gone off, had he not been careful. With inaudible steps, he advanced in the shadows. A hallway stretched before him. A single door frame stood cracked, just near where he was crouching. It's ray of light poured out of the entrance. Before he was able to take step closer, clumsy, rushed footsteps bursted behind him. He flexed his elbow, throwing back his gripped knife behind him—almost blindly. The man who'd seen him was taken by surprise.

"_Kuso_!"

The chocolate-locked man attempted to execute a quick jab to the neck pressure point. His fighter was much more witted then that, though. The Japanese soldier immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping his hand from reaching its target. With skill, the agent bounded away from his grasp, throwing his knife up into a defensive position as his fighter readied his gun butt. He stepped back, kicking the other man square in his abdominal, knocking him to the wall. As he went for a swift finish, the soldier ducked out of the way of his knife point, shouldering him in his own gut while swiping his leg out to catch him off balance. He side-stepped it, meeting an arm to his neck as he slid into the soldier's trap, yet his own as well.

Amber eyes met black for a split second. The Japanese man thrusted his AR-15's butt into his side, for it was too long to point directly at the lurker in this small space. He countered with a quick pivot; an elbow to the face. Just as the black-eyed man's grip loosened, an unexpected shot sounded. There was a moment of halted breathing before the soldier slid down to his knees, falling to the floor with an unlively thud. The amber-eyed man watched the man slid down, emotionless. He snapped out his Glock 26, automatically pointing it down the remainder of the hall. He definitely wasn't prepared for the sight he had witnessed.

A womanly figure, perhaps a little more than a foot shorter than him, stood secure and firm, an M9 in her clutches. Hard emerald eyes seemed to stare straight through him. Auburn tresses rolled down her face, stopping at her shoulders. Though her enter presence was utterly life-threatening, the agent found himself engulfed in her being. Didn't he find no other pleasure then seeing a gun pointed at him by a beautiful mistress? He raised a single chocolate-tinted brow, amused at the sight. Her emerald pools became slits. He dropped his gun, smirking deviously.

"Thank you for the help, but it was quite unnecessary ." He spoke his native language, Chinese. As canny as he sounded, he couldn't hide the bemusement in his tone.

She didn't seem to take very kindly to his actions. "I'm just here for my objective. Don't think I did you a favor or anything, Chinese filth." She spat. His smirk slowly faded. Japanese. He'd know the language anywhere. And she wasn't speaking to him very fondly. She kept her gunpoint faced at him as she approached. He straightened his back. The auburn haired woman sighed as she noticed their height difference. She pushed past him, focused on not touching him.

"You know, there's a few guys wandering around in h—"

"I know. I already killed them." She interrupted as thought it was an everyday thing, pushing open the door. He watched her curiously from the doorway. She reached for something in a broken-down piece of furniture, searching through a pile of messy papers. She picked out a folder, seeming satisfied with she found.

"Your mission objective?" He inquired, refusing to speak her own language. She peered at him dully, almost annoyed.

"Unless your mission is to pick conversations with enemies, I suggest you leave here as fast as you can before someone comes along, and I tell them you were responsible for the bodies lying around in the other room. They don't take kindly to the Chinese, and I'm sure they'd be more than willing to listen to what I have to say." She made a good point. Who they were dealing with were, in fact, Japanese, her own kind.

Yet he wanted to ask the very question that was pondering him endlessly.

"I assure you I don't fight like that all the time. He was merely a play toy." Neither refused to stop speaking their original language.

"I guess if you're not dead yet, that may be true." She replied, almost softly as she made her way back to the door again, shouldering past him this time.

His words stuck in his throat.

She was walking away.

And he let her walk.

He growled under his breath, returning back to the main room where he had entered. He turned the corner, finding a side door to enter another room. There, indeed, was several bodies piled disrespectfully at the side of the room. He kicked over the bodies, face-up. The blood that covered them didn't faze him. Yet, it was such an ugly thing to think that _she _was responsible for this. War seemed to affect more and more, pulling others into battle.

He located the orders, in the form of a small sheet of paper. He flipped it open, inspected the contents. Confirmation to allow the next batch of Japanese troops to move forth. Without these orders, the next line of soldiers and their commanders under them won't know what to do. Before, he'd been assigned to take care of their communication, which he'd succeeded in destroying. They had no way to directly receive orders, thus bringing a more simple method. And one very easy to intercept. His superior had quite the mind.

Quickly, he shut off the lights in the room prior to the one he was at. The entire place darkened immensely. The sun had fully set outside, allowing the black to fill his vision. This blindness that overcame him seemed to greet him finely.

It was going to be an easy escape.

--

**A/N: And there we go! :D I'm really liking how this is turning out, and I can't wait to get deeper into it. Syaoran (cause no duh its him) might be a little hard to understand right now, but it'll turn up in later chapters what's up with him. It's very fun writing for him, so you'll just have to figure out what's up, huh? And sorry for the length, I just wanted to get it straight to the point what's going on here. I promise to make later chapters longer.**

**War between China and Japan… will it ever happen? You may never know!**

**Please review!**

**--Chilo**


	2. Similar Minds

A/N: Hey! I'm updating pretty fast because I just can't wait to get really into this. , Like some of my other stories and ideas, I have this plotted from about start to finish, if not close to it. :3

**Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP, not me.**

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**Chapter II**

**Similar Minds**

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"Oh, great job! Agh, you never let me down, Sakura!" Amethyst orbs scanned over the file's contents before her, a smirk slightly stretching her lips. She leaned forward, elbows on the clear, mahogany-sanded wood in front of her.

The raven haired woman held a pure aura, chuckling to herself. She then lifted her hand from the scattered profiles, resting her chin on her palm. The rest of the men in the meeting kept quiet while she peered admirably at the emerald eyed agent.

"Orders are orders." Sakura simply stated back, managing a fake smile. "You know, I really wish you'd be a bit more professional about this." The by standing men in the meeting stared at her in awe, but kept silent. Their comments were really no use.

"I am professional." She shuffled around the papers, tapping her finger to her temple. She angled herself off the table, sitting back comfortably in her chair, legs crossed. She adjusted her navy blue skirt, which didn't seem to fit her very well. Sakura watched plainly, awaiting her next assignment with amazing patience.

With a very at ease sigh, her superior turned towards her, smiling brightly. "Now, if I know you, Sakura—which I do, don't get me wrong—you're going to want your next task."

She raised a single auburn brow. She was correct about that.

"But," she dramatically paused, turning her attention back towards her newly received information before her, "you're going to want to leave immediately to get it done, and I can't have my best agent collapsing from exhaustion. I'll give you a mission, though." She inclined her head slightly, ebony hair trailing behind her. "Get some rest?" A questioning look met her eyes.

"You never change, Tomoyo." Sakura sighed, shoulders drooping. "I'll see you tomorrow." She turned with grace and exited out the tall black doors.

"I love ya, Sakura!" A yell called from the room before the door quietly shut on its hinges.

--

"At approximately twenty-four hundred hours, you're to take Larkouski Glastov and kidnap him from his quarters." A pause. His dull amber eyes made eye contact with his commanding officer. "Breeching the base is possible, and security systems inside should be shaky, with just the trouble o f a few sentries." Cerulean optics studied his subordinate through the dark room. A projector screen hang loosely from the wall, clear images of the subject and a map with tiny numbers on it, including longitude, latitude, and degrees. Others spectated this briefing, charting down notes and concentrating hard.

"A radio will not be needed, for Russians are known for having strong C., or communication interception devices. You are to meet at the rendezvous point here." With a click of a button, the map zoomed into a more detailed version, a red dot blinking noticeably on the screen.

"Syaoran, you're to call and confirm you have him with the words 'I got the package, thanks Maltav' in Russian. Take him to the airport and catch a plane to Urgal and drive to Birobidzhan. Documents for your passing are ready. We'll meet at the weak point in the boarder. Keep him quite. Permission to use Nitrazepam for him to cooperate easily, and if necessary to carry him out, Chloroform.

"This is a stealth mission. You are not to be spotted." The azure headed addresser stated in a solid voice, making sure the point had gotten through to him. It was crucial. He knew that much.

"There is no time limit as to when you may have him back, but get out of there before oh-two hundred hours. We can't risk the guards being doubled. Just before this, a meeting will be held and Glastov's guards will be escorting and driving his visitors home. His word in the Russian leader's council is big, so we have to prevent them from joining this war, if not, convince him to leave the option of joining and pass it onto his superiors. China is strong, but we can't risk this factor for another enemy, and we can't have the Japanese gain allies.

"Any questions?" The man stopped, clicking another button on his hand-held remote. The room's lights came to life, the projector shutting off and the screen rolling up. The surrounding monitors also shut off, all electronical devices blowing out together like candle lights.

A grunt from his audience confirmed there were no questions. He nodded, straightening up his dark gray tie. "Then we're to dispatch tomorrow at oh-nine hundred hours. Dismissed."

The several there stood up in their chairs, neatly exiting the room in a very orderly fashion. All except a certain chocolate-locked individual.

"Yes, Syaoran?" His cerulean optics scanned over him for any faulties. As he saw none, he gathered his documents and prepare to head out. Penetrating amber orbs stared into him.

"Do you know anything about another organization working for the Japanese? Any sort of organization similar to our own?" He was directly to his point. He had given thought about it and came to the conclusion that the Japanese government wasn't responsible for sending the emerald eyed woman onto the battle field. The Japanese were taken by surprise on the turn of events, and couldn't have possibly been prepared to take out those few commanders. The azure headed man halted, inquiries at the tip of his tongue.

"No, not that I'm aware of." He reluctantly turned away from him, heading to the back of the room to switch off the lights. As he did so, Syaoran exited the room from the doors he was standing near.

"Well, can you look in on it?" It was hard to believe this was man was Japanese, working to make sure China won the war. He'd been the only one that had known about his awkward situation. He was hoping that he might remember a little something that the Japanese had behind their sleeves, including this different line of force they had.

"I'll see what I can do." With that, he halted and turned down the hall abruptly, as if in a hurry.

"Thanks, Eriol." The agent murmured before turning at his own corner, and dispatching down the walk way.

--

"At twelve o'clock, midnight, we need to get into there and take this Larkouski guy from his warm bed, if you're catching where I'm going with this." A wink. Sakura rolled her eyes playfully. It seemed like a game to her amethyst eyed friend.

"You need to be cautious of his sentries, though. There's only going to be a few, because a meeting's going to be held just before we snatch him up. His guards are going to make sure that his company makes it home safely. So, we need to get into their between twelve and two in the morning. Our radios are still being jammed, and we're yet to find the source, so we can't risk having the Chinese catch our signals listen in on us." She fiddled with the remote in her hands, tapping on the red button snappily. The projector flashed, shuffles from the men sitting in their chairs sounding as her attention was off of them. They took the time to note a few things, readying for her next batch of briefing.

"We're going to pick up you and Larkouski here, Sakura, just beyond Khabarovsk." A pink flower rotated on the screen, standing for her. A cherry blossom. She frowned, but nonetheless charted down the coordinates in her mind. "Take a plane and then a taxi get there." She followed the cherry blossoms, nodding. "I want him unconscious at all times, in case he might catch trouble. Documents for getting on the plane as well as tickets with him have been expertly forged and will be at this point." Another cherry blossom popped up onto the screen. "You'll be under cover as his step niece, and you'll be pushing him around on a wheel chair.

"He's an important guy, and can hopefully convince him otherwise joining this war. Lots of rumors are spreading that it's either going to be a new side and there's also the possibility they might be joining up with China. We can't risk it, so a bit of convincing has to be done. To add to that, letters and calls aren't making it to him. He doesn't want to negotiate anything, so we're going to have to force him to go our way, or the highway." She pressed the button again, smiling triumphantly as she finished the briefing.

"Good, good! Okay, any questions?" Tomoyo glimpsed around the room for any questions. "None at all?" She tried again.

They've learned not to ask questions.

"Alright! Everyone's dismissed. You'll start leaving at nine in the evening tomorrow."

The lights clicked on and chairs pushed out as they left the table.

"Hope you don't mind waiting another day to get into action, Sakura." She addressed her friend as soon as everyone else had emptied the room. Emerald gems laid upon her.

"I can use another day to get ready." What else did she have to do but get ready for a mission? Sarcasm gone, she sighed.

"Oh, don't worry about the wait! Trust me, I want to send you out there, too." That was a lie. She cloaked it too good. "Agh, can't I see my friend once in a great while?" They walked out the room together, Tomoyo's amethyst eyes sparkling.

"You do see me quite frequently. And we talked a lot during missions." She made sure to use past tense because of the ridiculously personal stuff they'd talk about while she was executing her job. Tomoyo was quite upset when she head their lines were being tapped.

"Not enough! You worry me too much. Hungry? I'll get you something to eat, my treat." Sakura couldn't help but smile. No use in trying to get her to give up on her goals. That's the type of person she was; strong-willed and crazily determined. Unprofessional at times, sure. But, she really knew how to make those under her respect her and take her seriously. She didn't know how she could manage it. She was just an amazing person.

--

He pulled his suitcase off the ramp, lifting it over a dark brown bag. He grunted as he nearly collided into someone pushing behind him.

Public wasn't a place for people like him.

With all his power, he ignored the collision, making his way to his waiting area. He relaxed his shoulders as he sat down into the farthest chair from the walkway, facing it. Barely five minutes later, they started to board to plane. He got up quickly, giving the lady at the counter his ticket. She smiled and nodded at him as she jabbed a few keys into the keyboard and took his ticket.

"Enjoy your flight, mister." He nodded, not taking another glance back at the woman. He crossed the terminal, entering the plane door without trouble. He proceeded to the guide, handing his ticket to a helper waiting to assist everyone with their seating. The attendant pointed down into the plane. "Two classes back, row eight, seat three."

Nonchalantly, he nodded and took his ticket. The agent went to his precise seating, keeping his suitcase by his side at all times. He loosened his tie, cursing the need to look like he was on a business trip. Didn't he wear a suit enough? He thought of all the different covers they could have placed him into—aside from this.

He blankly stared out the window, keeping his mind busy. He heard more people boarding the plane and taking their seats. Syaoran gritted his teeth together as someone came to sit in his row. Tuning out of the very boring scene outside his window, he spotted a man placing himself next to him. The man nodded at him, greeting him happily. Syaoran stared emptily at him, not responding. The man chuckled nervously at seemed to try and get comfortable in his seat.

With a sigh, his amber eyes trailed back to the window.

Then, a gentle thud sounded. Syaoran turned again, eyebrows furrowing as the same auburn haired woman sat two chairs away from him.

--

**A/N: It may seem a bit boring now, but I promise things will jump up. XD I mean, c'mon. They were given the same exact mission. Heh.**

**Please review!**

**~Chilo**


	3. Enemies

A/N: Aaand my third day in a row updating. XD Thanks so SilentGurl4Eva who reviewed. I've noticed that out of 30 hits, only 1 person has put me on alert. I'd really appreciate some input, so please make some time to review, thanks.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura, CLAMP does.**

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**Chapter III**

**Enemies**

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_Then, a gentle thud sounded. Syaoran turned again, eyebrows furrowing as the same auburn haired woman sat two chairs away from him._

He didn't even hear her approach. He was quite paranoid about his surroundings, so it was a near impossible task to sneak by him. The man next to him greeted her. She didn't say anything in turn. The man then sighed in cramped frustration. This was going to be one hell of a plane trip for him.

She cursed the neutral area between China and Japan. On Chinese soil, stretching to about half of the coast.

The chocolate locked agent couldn't take his eyes off of her. A certain question cut at the tip of his tongue. More questions echoed in his head, scratching and ripping down his throat to be asked. He swallowed them all, keeping in mind he was undercover and in public.

He traced every detail of her. She wore a very relaxed sort of style, as if ready to go anywhere cold. For Russia's weather, she had a snug purple scarf and a whole matching outfit, tidbits of pink and white coloring her clothing. He cleared this throat, smirking slightly at her visage.

"Vacation, I see?" He cooed in Japanese, able to get just a good view of her around the man sitting in between them. She sluggishly slid her emerald orbs over to him, disgust clear on her like a book with big font. Just seconds later, he set his suitcase comfortably in his lap, opening the latches in a very smooth motion. She frowned at him, rolling her eyes and leaning back into her chair.

The man looked in back and forth with a swift movement between the two. He shuffled in his seat as Sakura didn't say anything back. A tense aura rose in the middle of it all; where he was sitting. He drew in a quick breath, standing and taking his things with him. He excused himself for moving by the beautiful young lady next to him, nodding at the amber eyed man on his way to a flight attendant.

"Who do you work for?" He spoke softly, careful no one picked up his voice.

"You shouldn't be talking about things like that in public." She hissed. He grumbled something inaudible under his breath, sounding like defeat to her. Would he be so quick as to give up like that? She wanted to snort. What do you expect from Chinese? Arrogant, snobby little things.

She watched him with her peripheral vision, trying to catch what he was typing on the computer. She carefully picked up his fingering, reading mentally what he was writing.

_You know English, right?_

She furrowed her eyebrows. He was jabbing letters on the keyboard, just for her to read. She opened her cell phone after digging it out of her pocket. Consulting with the enemy. It was treason.

She hit a group of numbers on the dialing pad, sighing as when she had finished her reply, pressing 'END' and then browsing through her menu. She scrolled over all the numbers in her contacts, all names she didn't recognize.

Syaoran seemed pleased.

_35836859 _

Fluently.

Everything seemed easier when working with English on a keyboard. It made things flow better. The letters were also, after all, in the English alphabet.

_Who do you work for?_

He was straight down to business, uninterested in creating small talk. Just then, a flight attendant strolled down the isle, making sure everyone was properly in their seats.

"Please put away your phone, miss. And, your laptop as well, mister." She addressed them firmly, adding on a plastic smile that they got used to doing twenty-four seven. Sakura didn't bother to look at her, only sheathing her phone's cover and sliding it back into her pocket.

Breath irritably escaped his lips as he shut his laptop, placing it back into his suitcase. He buckled the latches back together, tapping on the leather as he waited for her to walk away.

"Thank you." She finished before continuing her stroll.

"I know the Japanese government didn't send you to go and take whatever you got from those guys." He mumbled a minute or so later, his tenor voice directed for her ears. "It must have been important, though. Mind sharing what it was? We can't have anything like Chinese information spreading among an organization like yours. Japanese affiliated with Chinese can have some pretty important stuff in their hands concerning us." Syaoran made it sound casual.

"It's none of your concern." She replied coldly, taking her own turn to stand and leave the row. He carefully watched her converse with a flight attendant. He pointed her to a different seat after he had taken a quick glance around the plane.

He groaned as she sat into a seat far off from his own. He was about to move when the intercom clicked on, and the fasten your seatbelts Chinese characters popped onto the sides, flashing red with an audible ring.

"_Good evening and thank you for entrusting Shanghai Airlines with your flight today. This is your captain, Donjei Yung. We will be taking off shortly, so please forward your attention to the monitors in your class. Thank you, and have a____great flight."_

With that, it clicked off and the monitors rolled on. He shrunk back in his chair, gritting his teeth together tightly. So tight, anyone else would have relaxed their jaw by now. This wasn't the case for him.

He closed his eyes, breath becoming uneasy. Though it was only going to be about an hour or two, he felt that this was going to be a long flight. Fun, at that.

--

He could only stare as she parted ways from him from the terminal. Suitcase firmly clenched in his hand, he exited towards the opposite way of the woman. He went through more security easily, cold air greeting him as the automatic doors flung open. It momentarily graced his skin. His eyes pulled towards the dark clouds in the dead night. Barely anyone was looking for a flight so late at night, so the grounds laid nearly deserted. He checked his watch clamped to his wrist. Just a little bit before midnight.

He stepped out, a trail of white smoke drizzling from his mouth.

Checking his watch again, midnight had finally struck on him. He stood in the lone cold, waiting on the side of the street. He kept his suitcase close to his side, peering up at the desolate moon.

"You're my only visitor tonight, moon." He rambled to himself in a low voice. His amber gaze focused on the white disk, chocolate tinted eyebrows furrowing in curiosity. The breeze out picked up as a few cars whooshed by him. He torn his gaze from his sight and glared at those who past. A certain man seemed to make a spectacle of him as he looked at the agent funny. He just glared back, eyes clearly following and making contact with his own.

An engine sounded near him as a car pulled up just a foot away from where he was standing.

"_Zdra-stvu-eetee,__kak dela?"_ Syaoran nodded at the man as he rolled down his window and addressed him with the greeting. He pulled open the car door and took a seat in the front.

"_Kharasho." _He was somewhat fine. He was sent to do a fun little job, yet it was no challenge if he only had to kidnap one person. He could have been better. This entire situation could have been better.

Syaoran took a moment to study the Russian. Scraggily, short-beard, unkempt appearance, and he looked sleep-deprived. Count on Eriol to locate people like this. As he'd heard, this guy was a weapon's dealer and was a big help when crossing countries through security systems. He sold to anyone who was willing to pay, including both sides in this war. A neutral dealer. Temporary gear was trusted to this guy—such as guns or grenades—, but he already had the rest of his stuff in a nearby hotel. Even though this guy was trusted and often referred to for this kind of business, they'd never trusted him to simply keep their luggage safe, including very expensive head pieces and other technology that wasn't metal. He had to ask himself again why he couldn't just take a helicopter here. Eriol was such a cheap ass. But, things worked out. Easy for him, a bit more difficult to maneuver around for him. But, what did it matter? He enjoyed a change.

"_Govorite li vy po angliyski?" _The chocolate locked agent inquired. Russian on his tongue never felt good.

"I speak little." The man replied in broken English.

"Chinese or Japanese?" He wanted to know which language this guy knew better. Listening to his poor English made him sick.

"More Chinese than anything else." The Russian thought after a minute, speaking with uncertainty as he replied in Chinese. Switching languages must have been difficult for him.

He didn't say any more as they arrived to their destination; a tall, four-story building with closing booths along the sides of it. Syaoran removed himself from the car, latched onto his suitcase. He followed the guy—his name he'd already forgotten—inside the Sanctuary, as they called it. The man led him to a depressing-looking room. The walls were a stale gray and the paint was chipping off. There were no floorboards and the ground was a wooden mess.

"We trade here our weapons. We can't get a too fancy place because they might find us." He guess 'they' was the law system. He didn't care about that, though. He just wanted to get his weapons and leave.

Their choice of firearms was small, but quite useful. He went for a simple Makarov PM and a shift knife. He thanked the man, asking for a ride to his hotel. He agreed, mentioning everything was 'on the house' for a few years of good business, if a few visits to Russia was considered good business.

Syaoran thanked him again as he went to get ready, telling him to park in the back of the hotel so he can use an emergency exit to go out of. Just minutes later, he left the back of the hotel, turning off his camera jammer. He had reviewed which street he should drop him off at.

The agent went over his orders. He was to carry Larkouski out of the building. Why they couldn't storm the place, he didn't know. It could possibly be a threat from China to Russia, then again, if something like that were to occur. As long as they treat him nicely in captivity and convince him to tell his high-ups to stay out of the war, things would go smoothly.

"You can drop me off just here." He gestured to the side of the road after a good then minutes of driving, switching on his camera jammer. The man nodded, mumbling what could have passed as a goodbye. He nodded, closing the door quietly behind him. He shuffled his shoulders as he clipped his Makarov PM to his side, managing to climb the tall, pipe-wired fence once he was out of view of the street. Indeed, as he peered through the gates, it seemed a few men were being escorted and driven from the manor.

He waited about ten minutes to make sure all activity was gone. He started making way to a climbable structure. He ascended it, stopping at a window on the second floor. If his calculations as well as the briefing were accurate, this should have been Glastov's room.

A carpet underfoot dampened his footsteps. The light in a separate room was clicked on. He moved to a corner, inspected where he had climbed into. It was a finely furnished room, paintings darkly shadowing the walls. Structures and bedroom furniture dotted the room, looming in the space. The door opened to what he guessed was the bathroom. He was caught off guard, if not for the third time in a few days, when he saw a certain auburn haired woman with his target in her clutches, knife to his throat.

--

**A/N: Cliffhangeeeeeer!...again! XD Well, hope you guys liked this chapter. I had fun with the Russian, and I would put more Chinese and Japanese into dialogue, but I don't want to make anything too confusing. :P **

**Please review.**

**~Chilo**


	4. Wordworks

A/N: Hey! Another chapter of Blood and Bullets. Thanks to BlackTea who reviewed. I think from here on out, things are going to move around a little faster.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura, CLAMP does.**

**--**

**Chapter IV**

**Wordworks**

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He pulled his Makarov PM, unable to find himself to point it at the two. He kept it as his side, awaiting for its actual need.

Glastov's bulging eyes told him enough of what was going on. He seemed to struggle in the emerald eyed woman's grasp, just petrified with his upper body, as if afraid so slide his neck onto the blade that was held tightly to his throat. A sense of pleading tainted his desperate look. He was pleading—perhaps at the cost of anything—to get out of this woman's hands. It was a look of sheer hopelessness. A look that was sure death was approaching.

Syaoran stood up sluggishly from his crouched position, rolling his shoulders. He spectated carefully at her movements, Glastov mumbling through the cloth in his mouth. He noticed that his hands were behind his back, pulled up into a fetal position the auburn haired woman had advantage of. She peered over him, surprise yet amusement in her gaze.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She inquired, venom clear on her tone.

"Oh, nothing much. Just trying to get my target, which you have there. Now, I can take over from here. True gentlemen don't let ladies carry their luggage." He smoothly responded, smirking and offering a hand.

She glared at him momentarily, disbelief furrowing her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I got to him first. If you really wanted him, you would have come a bit earlier." She bit back, not meaning her apology.

"That's hard to do when you're waiting for his guards to walk by. But, I insist. He looks heavy." He took a step forward. Swiftly, she pulled her silencer, pulling her knife away from Glastov's throat. She pulled it up, aiming it threat fully at the Chinese agent.

"That's not very polite. I was just offering help." He coated his words with an unfazed ring.

"Oh yeah? And how did you plan on taking him out of here?" She made her way to the window, looking out on the city…three stories below. She sighed. He kept a fine distance, amber eyes never leaving her. "What was your plan, Mister Brilliant? You planned on shoving him out of the window or wishing he'd stay quiet as you escorted him through the halls with guards crawling all over the place?"

Syaoran chuckled, despite their current situation. "No, sweat heart." Comfortably, he paced to her side. She angled her silencer towards him, the barrel following his figure. "Let me take him, and I'll be glad to show you."

He doubted she'd be able to carry this guy without resistance. He made a quick flash of a movement, the butt of his gun making contact with his abdominal area. The Russian blacked out, becoming limp in her grasp. "Easier?" he teased. He watched his weight fall over.

"I don't need your help." She retorted, rather angrily. It was obvious that this man was underestimating her! She would not let this pass. She returned her silencer to her side, hauling the man onto her left shoulder. She pulled his weight onto her with her right arm. She found him rather light compared to other people she's carried. "Why don't you move to the wall so you won't be a burden?" she told him.

Before he was able to say anything, she opened the door, signaling that talking from now on would jeopardize their mission—no. Her mission.

The chocolate locked man wanted to groan loudly. He put his palm to his face. She was really going to carry him? He quickly shut the window. "You're being foolish." He quietly murmured.

She rolled her eyes, sending him a warning glance before exiting the hall. With a quick evaluation, she hastily descended the stairs, glad the carpet underfoot muffled her footsteps. She pulled Glastov to the corner, giving herself a minute to regain her breath. She wasn't going to let herself grow tired.

Syaoran overlooked her struggling—he was going to call it struggling, even if it wasn't. He found much amusement in her movements. She looked back at him at sneered, annoyed that he was watching her.

He carefully slipped along the wall, unable to take his eyes off of her moving figure.

She turned into an unexpected room, parting the door with care before advancing inside. She closed the door behind her. Syaoran stopped as the wood nearly hit his face. He grumbled something about being mature and lightly took a hold of the door knob, rotating it and entering. She was pushing Glastov out a low-sitting window. She had him propped over the window seal. He smirked and inspected her work a little longer. She worked his body out the frame, a thud sounding on the other side of the wall. She climbed out the window as well, pulling over the window frame to put it back on its hinges. Syaoran stopped her, taking the piece from her hands. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she ducked from the window, perhaps getting ready to carry him out of the perimeter.

The chocolate locked agent placed the window frame back into its place before stepping down to the grass. He turned his camera jammer frequency up, following after his target and the auburn haired woman. He kept a good eye out for her back—or much rather his back.

"And you're following me, why?" She whispered as soon as they had left the vicinity. He clicked off his jammer, eyes never leaving her.

"He's my target." He replied simply.

"Well, I'm not going to give him to you, so you're going to have to kill me." She stated, pulling the Russian politician further onto her. For a moment, he imagined the choice. It was true. All he had to do, really, was kill her. But, he dreaded the possibility. The last thing he wanted to do right now was kill her. "I'm your enemy after all. A threat to your mission."

He blinked. "I'm a threat to your mission." He countered, it being a realization. "I want your objective." He said this as if he was just seeing what was going on. "And yet,_ you_ haven't killed me yet."

She sighed. "I'm tempted to."

"Tempted, yet here we are, arguing."

Silence.

"Why don't you kill me? It'll put a dog out of his misery." He tested. He was having fun.

She stopped as she turned into a dark alleyway, dropping Glastov. She paused, peering over at him. A smirk spread across her features as she pulled out her silencer, pointing it directly at him. "I should, huh?"

A jolt of heat pushed through his spine. The adrenaline was already there. He mirrored her smirk. His breathing picked up, daring in his gaze. She watched this for a moment, thin brows furrowing.

His breath had caught in his throat, expectance in his eyes.

Her arm started to tremble the longer she held up the gun, which must have been minutes.

"What's wrong with you?" She spat as she slowly lowered her silencer, sliding it onto her side.

"But we're enemies." He recalled his words in a mocking tone. He seemed calm about it.

"You're fucked up enough. Why not let you suffer?" She responded as she pulled a propped wheelchair from the wall, setting it up. He chuckled softly.

Sakura ignored him, pulling Larkouski onto the chair, setting his hands on the armrests and his feet on the pads. She hoped Tomoyo didn't mind a small detour. She pushed the chair out of the alley way, clenching onto the handles tighter as she heard footsteps pursue her.

"I really wish we can share." He continued to tease.

"Fuck you, you're getting nothing." She muttered.

"Those are some pretty ugly words, Miss." He commented.

She shot back quickly. "Who're you to tell me how I speak?"

"Who do you work for?" He suddenly asked. "I'm very curious."

"I can tell, asshole." She didn't answer his question. She turned into what seemed like an abandoned building, emerald orbs scanning over a boarded-out door.

"What's your name?"

Was there an end to his questions?

She said nothing as she pulled a knife and began to unwork the nails in the door.

"Two people who don't know each other don't meet twice for no reason, I once heard." Syaoran laughed softly at how he was getting to her.

"That's your excuse for following me, along with your pathetic attempt to get my target?" She said dryly, shaking her head as she already knew the answer.

When he didn't answer, she tapped on the wheelchair handles in relief.

"Yes." He decided after a while. "And you haven't killed me yet, so I must be some worth in your eyes."

"You're not." She corrected, giving a fake smile. He covered she space between them.

"Excuse me." Politely, he placed a hand on the door, glancing at her. She dropped her knife, taking a step back to get to the wheelchair, giving him an awkward look.

This guy was a mess and confusing to understand.

She blinked as he took a step back, stopping herself from stabbing him in his back.

With skillful reflexes, he kicked in the door, visibly shattering the boards and the door. She didn't care to comment as she pushed the wheelchair into the building.

She paced down the hallway that had bended farther into the abandoned building. It was immensely dark, faint moonlight and streetlights just barely filling the windows and the dust-filled rooms. Satisfied with a certain room, she tested the light switch. Very dimly, it flickered on. A single lamp shade was suspended by a wire from the ceiling. This building must have been battery powered.

A lone cot stood in the center of the room, perhaps previously serving as a table. She rolled the chair over to its side, locking the wheels in place.

Syaoran wanted to ask her intentions, but had decided he'd already messed with her enough. He leaned against the door frame of the entrance, crossing his arms. Emerald met amber for a split second before Sakura turned away, shaking her head. She wanted to tell him to get lost, but thought against it.

She turned to the Russian, slapping him across his face in attempt to wake him up. He didn't stir. She tapped on his cheek. A grunt escaped him, muffled by the piece of cloth lodged down his throat. She inspected the room, smirking as she spotted a bundle of wires. She took them, calmly walking back over to Glastov. She binded his hands and legs to the wheelchair, as well as his upper body.

He seemed unconscious for a moment longer before he started to stir, eyes shooting open with alarm. He went to say something, but Sakura had already jabbed his gag farther into his throat, using her knife. He made a trembling squeal, sweating.

"What fun is it if you're already sweating bullets?" She muttered, sighing hopelessly. She stood up, turning and jumping up to sit on the cot.

"How tall are you?" Syaoran murmured, not meaning any offense by it. She must have been short.

Glastov's gaze followed to where the amber eyed man was standing, even more panicked by his appearance. Syaoran inched his hand out, waving at the Russian. He smiled playfully as Glastov struggled in his seat.

Sakura shook her head. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"Can you exist without making things worse?" She inquired sourly. She sighed, lifting up her knife to gaze down upon it in the dim light. Glastov watched her, eyes wide.

"Are you going to torture him?" He thought that it'd be a bit more appropriate to ask that question instead of pushing forward with further annoying her. To make his question a bit more serious, he began to speak in her own language.

Silence answered him. He studied her, charting down details. She felt his gaze on her, never leaving her. Her brows pulled up lightly. She angled the blade in her grasp, reflecting the light off of it. It reached an angle where she was able to see a rough reflection of the chocolate locked man. She scrolled her eyes over it, flipping the blade in her hand. Her eyes rolled down the hilt. She lightly kicked out her legs, glancing at her captive then back at the knife. A good five minutes ran over time.

Very softly, her voice came forth. "Knives are such beautiful weapons."

He hadn't expected the statement. His gaze had drifted downward. He slowly pulled it back up, narrowing his amber pools by a fraction. He couldn't find anything to say back.

"They can rid of all of the ugly, wretched people in world." Her eyes didn't leave the blade.

Syaoran raised a brow, unsure of where she was taking her words.

"Yet they can hurt innocent people, used by wretched beings."

No comment, still.

"Knives are hypocritical, yet beautiful." She whispered. He brushed a hand over the back of his neck in attempt to stop them from rising. He kept it there, dropping it as she didn't speak.

She carefully ran her finger down the blade's edge. His breathing halted as he spectated the action, a similar burst of heat running through him. How it longed for the touch…

"Knives are similar to people in many different ways. Knives can kill, people can kill. You can use knives, and people can use each other." It looked like she was rambling, but a certain importance kept his attention glued to her.

"I've tortured before. I've killed before. I'm a wretched being." She met his amber gaze. "I've killed people for very shallow reasons." She searched his eyes, frowning. She nonchalantly looked at Glastov, who seemed like he was shitting himself.

"It's so amazing how a person can change when they're life is in danger." She smiled.

"They say things they wouldn't normally say and promise to do things they wouldn't do in order to save themselves." He was finally able to add his word.

"That's because there's nothing a person wants more than their life. Because we're a selfish race." She finished for him. "The human race." She said to herself, putting emphasis on it. "We're far from human when we think about it." She eyed Glastov before pulling her gaze back to the chocolate locked man.

"To end someone's life only puts less value in our own." She didn't notice she'd referred to the two of them. She broke from his eyes, finding interest in the floor. "You're different. And I'd sink very low to kill you. Lower than I am now." A comfortable silence wiped over the atmosphere.

"If it makes you feel any better, I raped and killed my mother because I didn't like her." Syaoran stated as though it was normal to say. "Does it disgust you?" He was about to add when a light-hearted chuckle sounded from the auburn haired woman. He figured out he wasn't very surprised anymore when it came to this woman.

"You have a reason, that's say enough." She said softly. He smirked. That was unusual to say.

"It'd be wrong for me to kill you." He looked towards the ceiling, overlooking the textures and the lamp shade hanging from it. She turned her head, inspecting him thoroughly.

"Why's that?"

He decided not to answer. She thought it was fair. She barely answered his questions. Actually, she didn't answer his questions. Though she'd give him just one to ask that she'd answer truthfully. Just because she felt like it. She was just waiting for him to ask.

After a pause, he looked back at her again. "What's your name?"

She mentally sighed. "I can ask you yours, as well."

Another silence.

"Li."

"Is that your first name, or you last name?" She remembered hearing Li was a common surname, and it sure didn't help identify him. She imagined it could have been 'Lee,' also, had it been his first name.

"Last." He wanted to tease her about asking one question at a time, but he wanted her name in turn. Teasing her would push him far from that.

That confirmed it. It didn't help knowing who he was at all.

"Sakura." She quietly gave her name in turn.

That didn't help anything. Sakura was a common Japanese name.

"Sakura." He repeated, testing it on his tongue, content with her answer.

For some odd reason, he felt that it had perfectly fit her.

"I don't want to hear anything about cherry blossoms." She added, standing from the cot. And just when he was about to say…

She was quick.

He liked that.

Glastov sighed, uncomfortable. Sakura reached to her side.

"I can't play with you today. Sorry, Larkouski." It sounded like a real apology. She pulled a syringe, injecting him the contents. In a few seconds flat, he was out cold.

"I don't know if we're going to meet again. I'd hate to, because you're annoying as hell. But, you understand; I can tell you do." She went behind the wheelchair, pushing the Russian towards the exit. Syaoran shuffled out of the way, letting her pass by.

"No thank you? I'm letting you have him."

She said nothing as she headed towards the crumbled door and left.

He smirked after her.

He really liked that.

--

**A/N: They're not really friends, but I had to find out some way they could lighten up to each other a little more. We want our SxS, right? It's going to take a while, but it's a comin'. Maybe in a chapter or two. :P**

**Please review.**

**~Chilo**


	5. Conflict

A/N: Well, heya! Thank you for all of you who've reviewed. It really does make me feel happy! :D

Sorry about the wait. School collided into me, and I had 4 projects to get done. X.x My updating spree stopped. To punish myself, I made this chapter extra long… but it's kinda crappy. DX

One thing I wanted to point out was Syaoran's ordeal with his mother… yes, Yelan is dead. I have lots of reasons for pulling her out like that, but I really wanted to get it straight that Syaoran's a bit messed up in the head (which I am going to further explain in random flash backs of his past, as well as Sakura). This isn't going to be like other fics where his mother wants him to take over the Li clan or anything. As for Sakura, I was supposed to reveal a bit of her history in the last chapter, but I forgot. XD Oh, well. There's going to be later chapters, and I'll find somewhere to fit it in soon.

I've noticed my writing has become a bit hard to understand and the facts are getting awkward. If anything seems weird, I might have missed explaining something. It's hard to try and get all these reasons as to why Eriol and Tomoyo are sending Syaoran and Sakura to do these things. I hope it's not too random, and I hope it sounds like I know what I'm doing. Haha… I have an idea of how I want the story to go, but I dunno if I'm explaining it right.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura, CLAMP does.**

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**Chapter V**

**Conflict**

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"_Mr. Li, in order for your academic skills to rise in any way, you have to start trying."_

_He hated this place._

"_I can't." He replied dully._

"_Everyone has potential, Mr. Li. You're an extremely bright boy and you can really do a lot if you put your mind to it." The councilor sighed, puzzlement in his blue eyes._

"_I can't." He repeated. Was the point so hard to get across? "Anytime I try to think about something I don't want to do, I get sidetracked and don't want to do it even more." Was he not speaking a language he couldn't understand?_

"_I suggest you start taking tutoring from a peer of yours. It can really help motivate you."_

_More suggestions._

"_I don't have friends."_

_They thought awkwardly of him. Why, though? He did nothing wrong. They shunned him, he shunned them back._

"_Perhaps you should focus more now on making a new friend. It'd be a fun experience."_

_How often did this man tell others how their life was going to be?_

"_I don't want any friends."_

_The man sighed. This child was so difficult._

"_Listen, Syaoran." At the mention of his name, amber eyes slowly scrolled upward. "I'll get someone to help tutor you. Someone whom I think you'll like."_

_Another? He'd heard this before._

"_Since… the disappearance of Rei Lung, you haven't had a personal aid. I'm really sorry about his absence."_

_Rei Lung._

_It was familiar._

_He thought about the name a bit, trying to match it with a face._

_Ah, yes._

_He'd killed him._

"_But, a transfer student from Japan has come along. He doesn't have any friends, either."_

_He clenched his teeth together. He didn't care if this other guy didn't have friends. Just because either of them has friends, they'd make good friends together? It was horrible logic._

_The councilor shuffled through some papers, finding one of particular interest. "Ah, here we are. His name is Eriol Hiiragizawa." _

**--**

"It's… really unlike you not to get a mission completed, Syaoran." Obsidian eyes carefully looked over the chocolate locked agent. Uncertainty tainted his thoughts. He leaned back farther into his chair, not sure if he knew the man in front of him anymore. It really wasn't like him to come back and report a mission failed. Syaoran was the type of guy who got things done, and this just didn't seem to be in character for him. Something had to be up, yet he retorted to simple excuses.

"There was a little bit of an obstacle, and he slipped through our defenses." He seemed to repeat for the third time. Was it that hard to believe he didn't come back with Larkouski? He wasn't a perfect agent. He definitely wasn't perfect.

Eriol sighed, gaze wondering the room thoughtfully.

Syaoran stood patiently, awaiting orders or more scolding.

Cobalt met amber, resulting in a tensed air. Eriol looked away, relaxing his shoulders.

"Alright. Just a slip, am I correct? This won't be happening again?" He had thought over it, and decided that Russia would remain at the side lines of this war. China was easily winning, so even if Japan were to gain a new ally or if this turned into a tri-war, China would come out on top. It was a necessary precaution, so he had taken it. But, it wasn't vital, so he would let this pass.

"No, sir." Syaoran spoke clearly, scanning his superior.

"Good, good. I'm sure it won't." Eriol sat up, pulling the chair closer to his desk.

"I want a full staff meeting for our next assignment. Please pass that around." With that, he pulled a few papers on the table together into a stack, ordering them one-by-one.

"Yes, sir."

--

"Oh, ho ho ho ho ho ho!" Tomoyo jumped up and hugged Sakura, laughing like crazy. "You're my heroine, Sakura! Things will definitely look up, now!" The rest of the men at the table sat in an uncomfortable silence as Tomoyo greeted her friend.

"Now, I want your opinion on something, and I don't want these guys to hear yet." She gestured to the men sitting around the oval-shaped table. Sakura stared around at them, confused.

"Sure thing…" She wasn't able to say a whole lot before her superior pulled her out into the hallway. Sakura followed no less than a step behind, hand being dragged by the amethyst eyed beauty.

"Okay." Tomoyo had closed the door to her office, walking through the room with a smile on her face.

"As you know, Operation LG was a success." She was referring to the Larkouski kidnapping.

"We're soon going to bring in someone to talk to him once he's aware of his surroundings a bit more. But, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. His being, I mean." Sakura listened carefully, curiosity perking her interests. "This can decide the state of our county's chances on winning this war."

She sat into her chair, gesturing for her to take a sit in the chair propped in front of her. Sakura gladly took it, nodding at her understandingly.

"Since we have Glastov in our hands, I couldn't see us passing up this opportunity. But, I wanted to consult my best woman about it, first." The auburn haired woman couldn't help but to lighten up a bit at her compliments. She really did see a friend in Tomoyo, and her constant support really helped her through a lot. Currently, though, she was questioning the importancy of this little talk that had to be in the raven haired woman's office.

"Since we practically have the soul of Russia in our hands, I was rethinking their business in this war." She leaned forward on her desk, placing her chin in her palm.

"We have the power to convince that entire country to join Japan in the war with China, with some amazing persuasive skills and a bit of money." Though she didn't favor the idea of her country needing assistance with its troubles from another country, it was possibly the only way that had a chance of winning. It was sure better than having Russia join China or just joining to fight at both sides.

Surprised, Sakura stared after her friend. And she wanted _her _opinion on it?

"I…I'm not sure, Tomoyo. We need to think about Russia's political enemies, at the same time. We don't want them to look down upon Japan. I'm sure we can stick through and win this war on our own." She was a little iffy on Russia joining their side. "I mean, it's a good opportunity and all, but I think it'd be best if we just leave them out of this." She didn't want to disappoint her if her choice was other than what she was expecting.

Amethyst eyes delicately inspected her, thoughtfully. "Hm," was all she could say. Though it was brief, Sakura felt as if it described her entire friend's mind right now. Just a simple 'Oh' or 'Ah' could have confirmed it also.

There was a short pause, her raven haired superior in deep thought. Then, a smile stretched her lips. "Well, if you say so. That's good enough for me." Her word, period, was good enough for Tomoyo. Sakura mentally sighed, nodding.

"Is there something bothering you, Sakura? You know you can tell me anything…" A glint of concern flashed in her amethyst eyes.

Nothing got past her.

As in "nothing."

**noth****ing**

/**–noun **

**1.**

no thing; not anything; naught: _nothing gets past Tomoyo._

The auburn haired woman kept a very neutral face, shrugging. "It's minor, but I've wiped it away."

"Oh, please, Sakura. Nothing's minor when it comes to you. Want to share?" Emerald met her penetrating gaze.

"Do you know anything about a Chinese organization working behind lines, much like our own?" Doubt was filtered out of her words. It was worth a try mentioning it to Tomoyo.

The amethyst eyed beauty furrowed her brows, trying to find the source of where this was coming from. "Nothing comes to mind, but I'll look up on it. Any additional information you want to share?"

--

"Our current objective has been misled and can be put on hold. For now, we can focus on a Japanese weapons dealer. Half of the supplies are provided by Otaka Uzutake's industry. In hopes of running it out of business and halting weapons trade, we're to eliminate Otaka Uzutake."

Eriol scanned over the room, watching the expressions of his subordinates. All seemed in deep thought.

"A back-up team will be placed behind lines, but the extra support isn't necessary. We'll have one squad, Little Wolf 6, infiltrate the base and take out Otaka and any surrounding guards he might have. Everyone is an obstacle in that building, so there will be no hesitation in removing those obstacles."

Obsidian eyes trailed the room. The blue haired man paced in a straight line, making his voice loud and clear. "Kamikaze 7 will be on standby. Class three equipment granted, copter transportation will be provided. Operation Blackout will take place between oh-five hundred hours and will be no longer than three hours in case more backup arrives. In any case, we want to be out as soon as possible. This is just a small movement against Japan, but if we succeed and things work according to plan, it can affect their performance."

Amber eyes blinked lazily. "And what about the air space? We don't have flight permission. I don't want to get blown out of the sky before we even get started stepping over the boundaries."

"I'm not exactly sure about their air sensors, but we have a cloaking device ready to mask our little visit. It may come as a disturbance later, and back up is more than likely to arrive, but two squads should be more than enough to handle this." Confidence strung through his words.

That had answered his question. Syaoran shuffled his shoulders, settling back into his presented chair.

"Security is tight. The surrounding area and its inhabitants are to be told to evacuate any buildings. There is permission to shoot down anyone on sight that are unwilling to cooperate or seem as though they're going to cause trouble. If necessary, disposal of citizens approved.

"All are to dispatch tomorrow at oh-five hundred hours. Are there any questions?" No hands rose and no voices spoke forth. Eriol nodded, switching on the room's lights. With a click of a button from his hand-held remote, everything shut down. "Dismissed."

Everyone simultaneously rose from their chairs, an orderly fashion of exiting following. All except one.

"Any concerns, Syaoran?" Eriol said without looking at the amber eyed man.

"If you had a chance to stop this war, would you?" His voice came calmly.

The azure haired man paused, taken aback with this sudden combination of words. He peered over at his subordinate, almost suspiciously. After a moment of silence, he shrugged off his suspicions.

"It's costing a lot, but it's what the country wants."

"I wasn't asking what the country wants." Syaoran firmly returned.

He sighed, preparing the room for another briefing soon to come. "This is history-making, Syaoran. China and Japan are fighting for each other's independence. We're fighting for territory. Disagreements often happen, but this is a bigger issue concerning the future for everyone. If China takes over Japan, can you imagine the possibilities?"

"One doesn't need to rule the other. It bothers me how pointless this all seems. It's a loop. One side wins, the other side looses, then the whole circle starts again when the losing side wants its independence. Everyone's going to die sooner or later, but this is just speeding it up to the point where both China and Japan wipe each other off of the face of the earth. If everyone dies, you better find me somewhere else I can go to." They were subjected to doom. Though he hated his life and every aspect of it, this country was still his home. He could see doing this would destroy everything everyone's ever worked for.

Mainly, it was just so pointless.

Everyone was being so dense.

They were enemies, but did they have to be?

Well, it wasn't his word anyway. He didn't decide anything. He had no power, no real rights. It was all so stupid. It tore at his insides, reeking havoc within him. He didn't like dealing with stupid things. This war was stupid. War was too big to deal with. He much rathered tracking down single guys at a time and finding criminals. He didn't want to be apart of any of it, really.

This was getting in the way of his original line of work.

He didn't like fighting in war. Too many people thought of it as a game. He didn't want to be apart of it.

It was either that, or the idea of stopping this war seemed so challenging and impossible, he was ready for the bet. Just for the fun of it, then, if not any other cause, he was going to stop this war. That was a bit simpler to understand.

"Before I brought you here, you were just a murderer. Don't make this difficult on yourself. Keep it simple and follow orders. That's all I ask of you." Eriol finally murmured.

Slightly infuriated, Syaoran shook his head. Eriol was a person to listen to logic, but he was just being stupid, now. He didn't like dealing with stupid things. But, Eriol was his friend in some awkward angle. He wouldn't kill him.

--

"Hey, you." His voice came commanding with power.

Sakura turned her head, emerald eyes narrowed. She flashed him a questioning look, not in the mood to speak to him.

"I'm hungry. You know how to cook?"

Otaka Uzutake.

Perhaps one of the most annoying subjects she's ever had to guard.

"No. I never cook." She dully answered, looking out of the room. Why did she have to be chosen to do this?

**(Flashback)**

"_Well! I'm going to be out of town for a few days on an important business trip, and that's that!" Tomoyo happily announced to her staff. _

_Everyone shuffled uncomfortably._

"_I—" Someone had spoken up, but stopped immediately what they were saying when amethyst eyes laid on him. He continued. "I'm not sure it'd be a good idea for you to go out alone, Ms. Daidouji. You insist you don't want any body guards, but what if something happens to you?"_

_Tomoyo smiled brightly, raising a thin brow. "You're convinced I'm unable to take care of myself?"_

_  
As if there was hostility in her voice, the man shrunk back. "Please, I want everyone's opinion."_

Sakura frowned, preparing herself for the storm.

"_Who doesn't think I'm capable of handling myself? By a show of hands, I'd like to know how many of you think that." She stood from her chair to get a better view of the meeting room._

_No one made a movement to raise their hand._

"_Oh? Really?" Tomoyo laughed softly under her breath. "You're all much too kind! Anyway, I want everyone to get a bit of a break in, so while I'm gone, a simple task of guarding Otaka Uzutake will be taken. Fun, huh? I know, I know!"_

_  
She circled around the room, locating her remote for the projector. "From our sources, he's being targeted by a few unknown sources. Talk about competition to the death, huh? Anyway!" She clicked on the button, a big picture of their subject flashing on the screen. "He's very important as of now, and it's required that we keep a watch on him until he can establish his new headquarters. He's out in the open, so we can't let him get hit!"_

**(end flashback)**

It was a simple task, but if someone didn't stop her, she was probably going to kill him herself.

"Aw! C'mon! Don't even lie! You're of Japanese blood, all women know how to cook!" He lifted himself from the tatami flooring, stretching out his arms.

"Is there even a kitchen here?" She inquired, trying to sound curious.

"Of course! There's one on the first floor. This is merely a dealing branch of my company. We keep out employees well fed and alive. That's our goal here!"

It didn't have to be her. She hated cooking. "Then why don't you have your cooks make you something?"

"Because I want to see how your cooking is!" That made sense. She wasn't obliged to do so, though.

"This way!" He led her out of the lounge. She had no choice but to follow. She was to never leave him on his own. Nonchalantly, she turned the corner Otaka had disappeared to. He was rushing out the cooks already stationed there, telling them to shut everything off and take a break.

Sakura sighed as he beckoned her over. She didn't move for a few heart beats, staring at the man in masked disbelief.

"Fine, fine… I'll make _us_ something." Sakura wanted to roll her eyes, but stood a good distance away, mentally shaking her head as she carefully watched him work.

He pulled a butcher knife from one of the very many drawers, also grabbing a suspended pot from the hooks overhead. He laid the knife onto a cutting board that slid out of the counter. He disappeared for a moment, Sakura stepping over where'd he had gone to follow. Less than three seconds later, he had returned from the massive fridge storage room, which looked more like a gigantic ice cap then a place to keep frozen food.

"How about miso soup? It's my favorite." He laid down what he had collected. He set aside the miso jar, sliding forward the negi stems. He cut the welsh onions, chopping heavily onto the board. Sakura eyed the knife like a cat eyes a mouse toy. Anxiety slowly crept onto her, finally caving her in. She moved her legs, tapping the man on the shoulder once she'd crossed the distance.

"Hm?" He angled his body towards her, surprised.

"Move aside." She couldn't watch him anymore.

She pried the knife from his hands. Willingly, he stepped away. She began to chop at the onions a bit more controlled then he had.

"Start boiling some water and mix in the miso paste. I'll cut the tofu." Of course she'd cut the tofu. She'd cut anything.

"Heh, great. After this, let's play Uno, okay?"

She was going to hate this day even more than she already did.

--

He shuffled his shoulders, stretching his limbs for the upcoming typhoon. They barely landed ten minutes ago. They had been on standby until Kamikaze 7 got into position.

"The fat's hit the fire, over." His earpiece softly came, static drizzling behind it. That was the signal that they were in place. Operation Blackout was now officially in commission.

"Roger." He mumbled, clicking his earpiece so that they can pick up his voice. He gave a two-fingered signal to the rest of his squad, all four of them alert for his call. He pointed to his right, an unused road lining his view. Trees dotted and served as cover, few buildings accompanying the natural setting. Just behind the canopy of trees, the seven-story building that held their target stood strong and proud. One man broke from the group, heading towards his destination. He pointed for another to go a bit to his left. All the while, him and two others stood their ground.

After a minute of waiting, he clicked on his radio. "In position?" He inquired. Two confirmations followed his request.

"Permission to fire granted." Not too soon after he had given the command, gunfire split the early evening air. Returning fire wasn't so hard to catch. Him and his two followers snuck past their decoys, easily taking out anyone they set eyes on. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, slightly blurring his vision. Heat pulsed throughout him, welcoming this new surge of battle.

Even though his vision was unclear, he was able to see the slightest of blurs at the corner of his eye. He turned, trusting his peripheral vision. The slightest smudge of black disappeared behind a pair of set bushes. He quickly snapped back to his teammates. They were heavily submerged in fire and spotted. He wasn't. He grunted, pushing behind his cover and following the blur. His instincts told him to. He reloaded his Type 56, stealthily covering ground, yet quickly. Amber eyes rolled over the foliage, not missing a single detail. He pushed through a knee-length shrub, a snap of a branch sounding to his right. Immediately, his gun was snapped to his side. Yet, it wasn't to fire. He threw up the metal, barely missing the edge of a blade, promising death in its swiping motion.

The strap to his rifle was cut straight through, causing him to drop the weapon as he jumped back to avoid the blade. He pulled his own blade from his boot, swiping back to face his attacker. Amber met emerald for a split second. No hesitation doubted her features as the auburn haired woman struck at him again, grace and skill maneuvering her.

He pushed himself back again, the blade grazing his cheek, the blow intended for his neck. Everything stopped for the smallest of seconds. He shivered as he flipped backwards, putting one hand out to execute a single-handed cartwheel. Just as he landed on his feet, he entered a flurry of attacks. He watched reluctantly as she attempted to go through his defenses. He kept blocking her jabs and side-stepping her swings. She cut air forcefully yet beautifully, each strike intended to seal his fate. He made no effort, however, to strike at her back with his own weapon.

He made no move at all to attack her. Her frustration grew, causing her attacks to step up a pace. As the seconds ticked by, this all began to get more tiresome. She noticed long ago that his efforts were halfed. He seemed more like he was playing with her, now. She disliked being looked down upon, especially in this sort of matter. She paused her attacks, just one last test to see if he was into this battle at all. Indeed, he made no movement to slit her in any way. He stood in a ready position, something she recognized as some sort of Chinese stance.

She squinted her eyes, gritting her teeth together. What the hell did he think he was doing?

"Is there something wrong?" He asked, relaxing slightly. He cocked his head, confusion splattering his mind.

"Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you're not making any effort at all the fight me back." She sarcastically replied. She couldn't believe this guy.

"Why should I?" Syaoran asked suddenly.

"What are you here for?" She changed the topic.

"Otaka Uzutake." He simply replied.

"All the more why you should be fighting back."

"Why?"

She wanted to throw her palms to her face. "I'm supposed to protect him."

"That's not good." He stated. His brows furrowed, pulling him into deep thought. As he did so, his hand swiped unintentionally over the graze on his cheek. He sighed, not liking the situation very much. He softly shook his head. "Where is he now?"

She grasped tighter onto her blade. "Where you can't get him." Sakura had already set up a plan in case something like this happened. He was hiding in a trap slide in the floor not too far away.

She wanted to kill him there and then, but decided she had the entire upper hand. She wanted to hear what this idiot had to say, as well as what he was going to do. If he decided to get some balls and attack her, it'd make things more exciting.

He peered over her searchingly, keeping his being well hidden. He reached up to his earpiece, causing her to tense and ready herself. She wasn't ready for what was about to take place.

"Retreat. We've lost him." He spoke to his teammates. A small outburst sounded, sounding everything into chaos.

Shocked, Sakura eyed the chocolate locked man suspiciously. "What're you doing?!"

He shrugged, eyes wondering towards the direction where gunfire began to cease. "I can't kill you, so there's nothing else I can do here. He's my mission objective, and you happen to be standing in the way of him."

That didn't make any sense to her at all. "I was just trying to kill you right now! And you're telling me you can't do the same?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"How else does it work?" She spat.

"I've made up my mind."

"_Little Wolf 1, do you copy?"_

She wanted to stab something. "I don't understand." Emerald eyes hastily scanned over him.

He smirked at her, angling his hand towards her direction. He tapped on his wounded cheek. The tickling sensation warmed his whole body. "I was already set before this, but this definitely decided it." She was humane. They talked before. She was listening, now. He only had one chance to ask, or loose it.

"There's value to human lives, Sakura." He recalled her name, remembering the sweet sensation of just saying it. "Don't try to cover up what you said to me the last time we met."

"_Little Wolf 1, can you explain the situation, over."_

She immediately regretted those stupid, stupid words.

"_You're different. And I'd sink very low to kill you. Lower than I am now."_

"You know, you're a very confusing person." He seemed to comment, making her flare. "That's good, I guess. I always like a little guessing game." Oh, didn't he?

"I said I'd sink low to kill you, but I never said I wouldn't." The way she said it was so exhilarating. She sounded so dangerous. So daring. He couldn't stop his seductive chuckle. It faded off into a low moan, something else he hadn't intended.

"_Little Wolf 1, respond, over."_

"How would you like to be given an opportunity to stop this war?"

"What are you, a damn hippie?" She bit, becoming more confused by the second. Enemies definitely didn't stop to talk to each other like this.

"No, it's just useless." He decided to voice his back-up. "It'd be fun." He shrugged.

"What makes you think I'm interested?" She slowly started, still trying to find sense in all her questions.

"Japan's loosing this war. I'm sure you've noticed by now. Why not be interested?"

She snorted, finding that funny. "Is there a real reason why you want to stop it? Or are you still fucking with me?"

As much as he liked the sound of that, he tried to stay somewhat serious. "I've got a cause. If you want to give it a try, I surely won't disappoint you."

"You're ignorant to think you can do it."

"Ah, but you don't know me." Something he wanted to change.

"_Status report, Little Wolf 1, over."_

"You're right, I don't know you. All the more why I shouldn't work with you. How do I know you're not trying to find more leaks? Your country has practically all our connections linked. Spying doesn't work with me." Sakura carelessly chose her words, speaking her truth.

"_Little Wolf 1! Do. You. Copy?"_

"Little Wolf 1, I copy. Just back out, Otaka's on the run and back up is on the way. We can't catch him now. He's already escaped." He impatiently spoke to his teammates.

"What about it, _Little Wolf_? I still tried to kill you and I'm still set on it. You're trying to get me to work with you, but you just seem like you don't know what you're doing. You shouldn't play with people like me." He wanted to laugh, but instead found himself staring at her, almost longingly.

"I'll take my chances." He spoke to her, locating his Type 56 and comfortably walking towards it. She snapped out an M9, one he'd seen before. Amused, he watched her as he bended over and picked up his rifle.

"What if I shoot you?" She asked, emerald optics slit.

"Oh?" He smirked, brows raised. "That'd be fun." It looked as though he was encouraging her to do so. She studied him for a long moment, trying to catch the slightest bit of any feeling that might give away his thoughts on her pistol pointed at him. He fully stood up, running his own test.

"_Waiting for further instructions, Little Wolf 1."_

"But, the question remains; would you?" He barely spoke over a whisper. Before she was able to react, he vanished suddenly in a flash of a second.

She put her arm down that had been pointing the gun at him. She now just realized she was shaking with that little effort.

He was a cocky little bastard.

--

**A/N: Okay… I promise for sure that there'll be some SxS in the next chapter… though it might not be what you're expecting. Lulz.**

**Review please! I really appreciate the input!**

**  
~Chilo**


	6. Unexpected Guests

**A/N: I'm amazed to say that someone pretty much already guessed what was going to happen. (PLEASE DON'T LOOK BACK IN THE REVIEWS TO FIGURE OUT! XD Well, unless you really want to.)**

**--**

**  
Chapter VI**

**  
Unexpected Guests**

**--**

"I'm very grateful to Sakura for stepping in and executing her job perfectly. Thanks to her, I was able to remain out of harm's way." Somehow, she couldn't understand how a guy like Otaku Uzutake can sound like such an idiot one moment, then a complete professional the next.

Tomoyo brightened exponentially by his words, pleased with the ending of his report. "I'm very glad the Daidouji Institute properly carried out its mission, Mr. Uzutake." She studied the man as she slightly turned back and forth in her chair, rocking on its hinges. He smiled politely.

"I'd gladly come back to you for help any other day." He bowed a fraction to her, just enough to show his inner respects.

"You say a group of Chinese attacked you?" She inquired, interest perking her voice. She was unable to stop her question. From the reports, all she was able to read about were the mysterious attackers from their enemy country. "Were you able to identify their cause at all?"

Otaka kindly shook his head. "Not a lick of a clue as of what they were doing there. We can guess that it was probably for me, but other intentions could have been in store."

Emerald orbs carefully glided back and forth between the two. She knew who they were, yet not exactly who they were. She knew their cause—well, Li's cause. She couldn't find a proper moment to add her word. A proper moment to hint who these guys were. She couldn't put a finger on what they wanted, though. She couldn't bring up that she recognized them—or rather him—and not have anything else to say. More simply, maybe they just wanted Otaka Uzutake. Maybe it was as plain-structured as that.

Then, that bastards offer filtered back into her mind, his words as clear as a ninja wearing white in her ears. She sighed. She had seen some pretty mentally screwed people, but this man had to top it all. What the hell was he thinking? He was ridiculous. Absolutely crazy.

Because it would be fun? Challenging? That was his reasoning? Mentally exhausted, her gaze just stood glued to the floor. She really couldn't understand this guy. She didn't want to think about him anymore. She didn't want to think about him, this war, her work, or anything considering herself or anything around her. Just for a moment, she wanted to forget she existed. It made things easier, didn't it?

--

She sighed very softly. Very calmly. With just a bit of a dangerous hint behind it.

"Tomoyo," She murmured. Her amethyst eyed friend just watched from her reaction, a smirk evident on her feminine features. "You're crazy."

"Quite the opposite."

"You're crazy." She repeated, not feeling she was getting her point through.

"In some awkward vision of the moon, sure." Her superior cocked her head, resting her chin in her palm.

"So, you're crazy." It wasn't a question.

"But really, undercover missions are always fun." She thoughtfully glanced around the restaurant the two had decided to visit for a late night girl's time out.

She had to agree partially, but then again disagree. "It's dangerous for you."

"Now really, I don't know where you people get this absurd idea concerning me being unable to watch myself. It's not like if you turn the corner, I'm going to get a bruise." Disappointment threaded through her.

"With your status, we can't afford to put you onto the field like this." Sakura argued simply.

"Before my mother, you do understand I did similar work as you, correct?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I was out taking care of tasks just like anyone else. Why should that change?"

"Your position puts you in a more valuable suit. I know you can handle yourself, but the possibilities of what can happen are slim to great." The auburn haired woman crossed her arms in front of her, carefully placing them onto the table.

"What's so wrong with wanting to attend a party?" Tomoyo's gaze met her emerald one.

She hushed her voice, crouching forward. "It's a _Chinese_ political party. Infiltrating it sounds like a good idea, but you going is out of the question."

"You agree it's a good idea." The raven haired mistress noted.

Sakura paused, brows furrowing. "I do, but—"

"And you can agree more with the fact that someone as highly professional as me would be executing this little mission here." Again with the statements sounding like questions not being questions.

"That's beside the p—"

"It's exactly on the point. I have a wonderful visual in my head, and who would be better to carry out my own plan than myself? Please, Sakura. See it the way I do. There's no trouble in it at all. Chances of something happening that inflict on Daidouji Institutes are very slight. Just this once?" So pleading.

She sighed in defeat. "I was just suggesting you shouldn't go. It's in your power whether or not you're going." Why was she even asking her? Just to get her thoughts? Well, even if that wasn't Tomoyo's goal, she sure knew what she thought about it.

--

Too risky. Much too risky.

She should have fought more on the issue. But, it reassured her that it would be herself that would attend the party with Tomoyo. She couldn't put anyone else in charge of guarding her, especially if it was out on a mission like this. Her gaze constantly wandered the perimeter, even when they were driving towards their location in the limousine.

The head mistress of Daidouji Institute sighed audibly as their limo took a turn down the streets of Hong Kong. She wiped her hands across her lap, which was covered with the flap of her qipao, which had a tinty shade of purple. Gold scripture ran faintly across the Chinese dress wear, the black lining making it stand out even more.

Sakura—or much rather Ying Fa, now—sat tensed and uncomfortably. She shuffled once before peering at the Chinese driver through the rear-view mirror. She guessed he practically couldn't see anything back here. She reached for the slit in her dazzling dark blue, sleeveless qipao, making sure her gun and knife were in place. For the first time that day—after being unable to note her personal surroundings, but the outside surroundings—she caught a glimpse of exactly what she was wearing. _It _was, indeed, a darker shade of the ocean, gold lining running up the middle section. Darker shades of flower petals trickled down the cloth, other exotic shapes hugging the design. The qipao was slit a bit higher at the sides than usual, revealing a bit more of her legs, but just enough to provide easy movement. Just barely visibly, the black straps holding her weapons nearly stuck out. Her hair was in a sloppy (yet "sexy", as Tomoyo had said it) bun with her auburn tresses falling about her face. She hadn't expected her shoulder length hair to cooperate enough to fit perfectly into a bun. Sakura sighed.

It made her sick, seeing herself in Chinese dress wear. That, _and _having to have to go by her Chinese name as well as speak the wretched language. But, this was a great opportunity to see into the Chinese lines, rather than to look at them. Her and Tomoyo would be able to notify some of their enemy's true intentions.

Tomoyo frowned at her cousin, finding it difficult to try and relax when she was in this sort of state. Even as the car stopped and the driver opened the doors, Sakura quietly sneered at the poor man. He gave her an awkward look before blindly apologizing for the wrong he hadn't done.

The building in which the party was to be held was impressive, at that. It took a more traditional form, unhesitant in showing its price with the mind-splitting décor. She would have thought the man waiting outside was part of the decoration, had he not moved to check his watch. Her eye especially caught on him as they neared the entrance. She attempted not to make a visible spectacle of him, and managed to pull it off. He had stunning neatly combed dark azure hair and amazing cobalt eyes. He wore a white wool coat with long sleeves, black buttons neatly trailing down his pectorals and abdominal section. A light silver dragon, shining due to the lighting, trailed across his shoulders, both ends of the ancient serpent curling down across his breast area. The collar rose up, a black undershirt just poking out of it. The flaps at the end of the coat were pulled up as he made his hands stable in his black pant pockets.

Damn.

_He _was absolutely delicious.

The guard at the front kindly asked for their names. It was Sakura who stepped forward.

"Ying Fa and Zǐse Wu Ya." she said almost bitterly, as if saying the names stung her.

Eriol's gaze pulled from the floor, resting on a slim figure to his right. She had told the guard her name, as well as her friend's accompanying her. His cobalt optics locked onto her. With a quick full body scroll, he couldn't mask his smirk—a smirk that would kill anyone who looked at it. Hell, he could turn guys bi for him with that smirk.

The guard nodded towards the two. "Your names are on the list. You may proceed." Sakura hastily pulled Tomoyo in.

He watched silently as they slipped in. He would have run after them, had his sense not kicked in. He pulled his hand from his pocket, checking his watch again. He was going to be late, enough said. He turned towards the guard, leaning off the wall and dusting off his shoulder.

"Eriol Hiiragizawa." He stated simply. The man nodded at him, in a somewhat less friendly manner than with the two women who just passed through. He frowned and nodded in return before entering through the doors.

--

It wasn't all she had expected. Sakura, for the first time, actually wanted something to happen here, even if it were to endanger Tomoyo. At least that'd be exciting. She scrunched close to the wall, back touching the fanciful wallpaper. She kept her distance from the politically involved Chinese whom attended. All their existences disgusted her.

Tomoyo, after failing to get Sakura to have a drink, sat idly at a bar chair, which she found rather uncomfortable. She glanced at her cousin, who seemed like she was in pain. Despite that, she was on high alert for anything concerning the Chinese intelligence.

A chair next to her briefly creaked in protest as a certain azure haired man sat next to her. Amethyst eyes carefully wondered to him. Her heart would have skipped a beat, had his gaze been on her. Suspiciously, she followed the direction of his view, turning back to her right.

Damn.

Damn.

With emphasis.

He was staring right at Sakura.

She cursed her for being so pretty.

Of course she was bound to be an eye-catcher. She sighed mentally and turned back to him. She raised a brow exquisitely at him as his gaze finally pried off her cousin. He smiled at her before flicking his gaze back towards Sakura. Again, with seeing what would have happened, but he looked away so quickly he could have been smiling at nothing. She thought he was going to enter a long staring state again before he ripped his attention to the bartender.

"My cousin." Tomoyo said audibly, not talking to anyone too in particular. It was enough to catch his attention.

"Her?" He gestured over to where the tensed auburn haired woman was standing. He still wanted to walk over there…

"That'd be her." She didn't even need to turn to see who he was gesturing towards. She angled herself forward, leaning on the counter top. Tomoyo was then lost in thought, trying to wonder if it was physically possible for a person to eat another in order to gain their looks. It reminded her of a Greek tale she'd heard. They were some far-out people…

He nodded acknowledgingly. "Ying Fa, was it?" He inquired. She peered at him from her side view.

"Mmhm," he must have overheard her name as they both entered.

"And you're Zǐse Wu Ya?" She would have preferred _'And you're Tomoyo Daidouji?'_, but she smiled and nodded anyway. Well, he remembered that she was there. That was something.

"Hiiragizawa Eriol." He offered a hand towards her. She scanned him, placing her hand in his.

_Hiiragizawa_ had to be Japanese. That caught her interest.

He raised her hand as he crouched over, placing his lips delicately on her soft skin.

On cue, her heart had finally skipped that beat she was waiting for. On top of that, that eye-melting smirk of his made an appearance.

Okay.

Was he trying to kill her?

If he was, it was working.

She smiled shyly, swallowing her need to pass out. He gently dropped her hand, shuffling in his chair to face forward. "One moment, please." He said just above a whisper. He pulled his cell phone from one of his pant pockets, flipping it open. She wasn't able to catch a number, for he hadn't dialed one. He called someone on speed dial. Speed dial "1", to be more specific.

As he raised the phone to his ear. She noticed not one ring later the other person on the line answered it. "Are you coming?" He said briefly.

"I'm already here." She heard a deep voice on the other line.

With that, he hung up the phone without a reply. He had done it so quickly, the man on the other line could have said something and not realized his friend had already hung up.

What a well-constructed conversation. She could tell nothing about this man, just that him and this oncoming arrival were very business-y. She looked forward to seeing the possible conversation these two would have.

Just then, a chair pulled from next to Eriol. Another man with chocolate locks sat into it. His hair was messy—sexy. A very light tint lined his jaws. He must not have had time to shave before coming her. She would have preferred he kept it like that, though. She noticed three scars running down the side of his jaw. They were just visible beneath his five 'o'clock shadow.

He wore a black Thai silk coat. It was split down the middle, for he didn't have it buttoned up. A white undershirt covered his body. Five buttons of it remained undone, showing some of his collar bone. The figure of a wolf—dark blue, as if fitting in with the night of his coat—artistically curved onto the coat, fur jutting out wildly. The eyes of the animal were hollow, black filling its sight. Grungy yet beautiful script ran down his side. _Xiao Lang, _she read_._ Little wolf.

She looked over them both. For a moment, no one said anything. Eriol turned towards him, nodding. That's when she saw his eyes as they turned towards the azure hair man. They were an intense amber. He nodded as well. "Eriol." He addressed him casually, something she didn't expect.

"Syaoran." Eriol stated simply back.

Amber eyes scanned her, immediately making her shiver. They were _so_ intense.

"Syaoran Li, this is Zǐse Wu Ya," He introduced her after seeing her reaction. She could only whisper a greeting. "And over there is her cousin, Ying Fa."

Syaoran nodded statically at Tomoyo before pulling his attention to _her._ At first, he wasn't surprised at all. He was more impressed then surprised. He immediately made a connection between this Zǐse Wu Ya and Sakura. Immediately, he came to the conclusion that they definitely weren't Chinese, if this other girl was related to the auburn haired woman. Just then, emerald met amber in a clash. She narrowed her eyes in controlled fury. He smirked towards her, visibly eyeing her up and down.

Damn.

_Another?_

Sakura was on a roll. Tomoyo glanced back and forth between the two, but felt that the atmosphere was very stiff and tense. Her thin brows furrowed. Something wasn't right. Her amethyst orbs locked onto the chocolate locked arrival.

How was he going to play it this time? They were obviously here spying. Was he about to let them? He couldn't just make a scene to get them out of here. He was the only one who knew their obvious intentions. He was sure Sakura knew he knew, too.

What she was wondering, too, was Li's business here. Was he politically involved with China, as well as a lap dog on the side? That seemed likely.

The sly bastard just winked at her, clearly amused.

She had it with this guy. He wasn't going to give her out. He was trying to help her… again. Making things go her way. She hated him. She hated him and how she seemed so weak just falling into his assistance. She saw him as somewhat useful, but knew having him help would be a mouthful.

She needed to kill him.

The attention of the crowd was drawn to a middle aged man who had taken the stage and had a microphone in his hand. He addressed the party, following a planned routine.

Sakura took this moment to slip out of the main room. She knew him enough to the point where she could predict his moves. It'd be easy to work around this.

Syaoran barely took his eyes off of the retreating figure. She disappeared from the room, automatically searing a sick sensation in his stomach. He sighed to himself in defeat as he had no choice but to follow. That, or he was lying to himself again and wanted to see her. "I'll be right back." He told Eriol, nodding towards Tomoyo, whom had already long noticed Sakura left the room. It didn't make her anymore easier as she saw the chocolate locked man follow her cousin where she had gone to.

Eriol also had noticed the awkwardness in Syaoran and Sakura's stare-off. It was pretty hard not to. His gaze lingered back towards Tomoyo, suspicions rousing him. She seemed equally as notified as he was.

"Syaoran's always really quick." He covered calmly. Smoothly. He revealed nothing.

She wanted to say how she deeply doubted he was going to try and pick up on her. "Is that so? She might not let him in that easily." She calmly conversed back.

He smirked to himself. Syaoran did some pretty out things. He couldn't help but to worry for Ying Fa. Knowing him, his intentions couldn't be good. He'd do nothing here, though. He'd be smart not to, and he knew Syaoran was smart. That relaxed him slightly. "That's good." He almost said to himself.

--

She breathed out softly, closing her eyes to steady herself. Her knife was clenched in her hand. She stood back-to-back with the wall, waiting at the edge of the turn of a deserted hallway. The place was big, and she felt she wandered far enough from the party.

Though she didn't hear his footsteps, she saw his shadows slowly grow as he neared her awaiting self. She halted her breathing, just seconds away from attacking the approaching figure. She'd kill him, then her and Tomoyo would see if they couldn't stay a bit longer at the party to get any information. She was already deciding where she was going to hide his body.

He took one step more towards the bend in the way before a dark blue blur rushed out at him. Naturally, he knew it was coming. He felt it in his blood.

He took a millimeter of a step back, just missing a fatal blow from her weapon. It sliced a fraction of his arm, cutting through the black, silky fabric easily. She stepped forward quickly, throwing up the knife in an aggressive stance. He tilted his head backwards, amber orbs never leaving her. The blade grazed his chin. She whipped around, moving swiftly. Forcefully, she threw her arm around his neck (finding that she had to spring a ways to do so), spinning around his side. She kicked down on his hamstring, causing him to buckle down to the floor.

It was his knees first, then his face. She twisted his arm behind his back, holding the knife at his throat. She sat on top of him—on his back.

She wished she hadn't noticed it. But, he barely defended himself. Why couldn't he just fight back? His life was in danger, again, and he was pretty much just taking it. He was taking the damage, but avoiding death.

He shuffled under her. He chuckled, the action shaking his shoulders. The chuckled faded out into a moan.

He was fucking insane, enough said.

Despite the knife point the back of his head, he turned it to look back at her. She tightened the pull on his arm, causing him to breath hard. He softly chuckled again.

"There's something seriously wrong with you." She stated, noticing she was nearly out of breath.

"Don't we all have something wrong with us?" He asked, voice muffled and low. "What a suggestive position, Cherry Blossom." He noted.

She tilted her blade to where the face was pushing against the back of his neck. She forced it down, forcing his face to the floor. "It's going to be rather suggestive when I cut you up." She countered, venom dripping across her.

"You're going to cut me up?" Syaoran inquired, struggling to get his voice out of the floor. He chuckled again. He sounded mocking.

"You're so fucking retarded." She sighed. She put that aside, placing her knee in the position her arm was that was holding the twist in place. She pressed down onto his back, her other hand now free. She placed it onto his shoulder, flattening him even more. "Now, can you explain to me why you're treating me like such a child?" She flipped the blade to the sharp side.

"Me? Treating you like a child? Absurd." He arrogantly stated. She slid the knife across the back of his neck. Somehow, she wasn't surprised when he moaned deeply. The blood dripped out of the cut, falling down his neck and onto the floorboards.

"You're a masochist." She said effortlessly, in monotone.

His amber eyes slyly peered her over. "What if I am?"

She suddenly felt mentally exhausted. This wasn't going to work. If pain didn't work, what did? There was a moment's pause. She was out of ideas. Her only method of real interrogation had just slid down the drain. Everyone succumbs to pain. What do you do to get something out of someone who practically _enjoys_ pain?

It was no use. There was nothing she could do. It wasn't like he was going to fight at her. If anything, she was making him more pleased at the situation, which was exactly what she didn't want. She pulled off of him as he started to mumble something inaudible under his breath. He lifted himself off the floor, rolling his shoulders.

"That hurt." He scoffed at himself. He was quite the comedian.

He turned to face her.

She aimed an M9 at his face, causing him to raise his brows expectantly. She slipped her knife back under her qipao.

"You shouldn't play with toys like that." He pushed the gun to the side with his finger. She stared at him darkly as he did so. He smirked roguishly.

"You're the weakest piece of shit I know." She pulled the gun back towards where she originally had it, causing him to frown. "You think you can stop this war? Making friends with your enemies doesn't help that at all."

"On the contraire—"

"You're one single person," she interrupted. She had enough with him. "If anyone could change things measuring to stopping a war, everything would be very different. The only way to solve and work out a war is by continuing through with it, not to affiliate with your enemy in hopes of getting both sides to resolve. You and I are both just two people. You're very comical if you think you can pull that off, even if we do have organizations to back us up. We're only mortal. Not some deck-shit fantasy you see." Hostility rang in her tone. "Isn't your life worth anything to you?"

All his joking had long slipped aside, a neutral gaze meeting her eyes. He listened carefully, taking her words in thought. He didn't reply immediately.

His eyes meet her's as he looked across the barrel of her weapon. "One person's all it takes to make a difference." He corrected. "It takes one person to stand up and get noticed." He paused to look her over. Syaoran calmly continued. "It's only the fact that you're unwilling to stop it that makes _you_ weaker than me. I'm clearly holding back on you because we can work together instead of fighting."

She slit her emerald orbs, tightening the grip on the M9. Syaoran defensively threw out both his arms, knocking aside the weapon. He gripped her arm and worked smoothly around her, now in complete control. He twisted her around, pinning her left arm to the wall. He pulled up her arm in the same exact fashion she had when he was vulnerable on the floor. She flinched as her body made impact with the wall. He leaned his weight onto her, trapping her in a sandwich made up of Syaoran and the wallpaper covered surface. He compressed her wrist within his hand, slowly bringing it down.

His raggedy breathing grazed the back of her neck. He smirked. "I'm sorry, but you're a bitch." A whispered too calmly into her ear.

"I know." She agreed, almost pained. It did hurt, but she'd never admit that. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You were about to kill me." His mouth came closer to her ear, as if teasingly. Every hair on her body rose. He pushed closer to her, the body heat rushing through him. He had already brought down her other arm, managing to hold them both with one hand and keep her pinned to the wall with his weight.

His middle finger then traced down the side of her figure, causing her to shudder. He constantly watched for her reaction. She gritted her teeth together. She was so stupid. She practically let him gain this advantage. He trailed a finger across the flesh of her leg. He reached under her qipao, his fingers continually gliding across her skin. He growled as his fingers slid across a leather strap. He dragged them across it. Sakura exhaled uneasily. What the fuck was he doing?

She wanted so badly to call him a creep.

Syaoran lifted the knife from its holder. She unintentionally shuddered. He pulled his hand out from under her qipao, twisting the blade in his grasp as he examined it. He brought it up slowly to her, flipping it towards the dull side.

He pushed tightly against her, getting her to tense. "Hmm." The sound was unnoticeably soft. He shifted the dull end across her neck. Good God. She wished she had never cut him. Had she known a bit sooner, she would have never inflicted bodily harm on him. She never would have done it if he was going to be a stupid bastard submitting to his hormones. He did no harm as he made soft strokes with the weapon. It actually tickled a bit. She pushed out a gust of air, swallowing.

What a creep.

If pain turned him on, she couldn't use it against him. She was practically powerless against him unless she finally got to putting him out of his misery and killing him.

He pulled the knife back, laughing softly to himself. The blade retreated onto a clip in his belt. She somewhat relaxed herself as he pulled away, still in complete control. She heard shuffling behind her, but couldn't turn to see what he was doing.

He tied some sort of binding around her wrists. She wouldn't know—she couldn't see. "Pull that from your ass?" She attempted to put up a fuss.

"This carrier rope? Yes I did." He joked. She sighed in frustration. "I'm quite prepared." Syaoran added proudly. Like she cared.

"What're you going to do with me?" She wasn't too interested, but she wanted to know what to expect.

"Well, if you don't want to help willingly, I'm going to have to make you, aren't I? You're the perfect opportunity." The chocolate locked man whispered huskily. She grunted, flinching as he finished the binding.

"Ow." She mustered plainly.

"Does it hurt?" He paused for her reply. When she didn't, he began to loosen them.

He was too easy. She rolled her eyes. They were silent until he finished redoing the bind. "Is that better?" he retried.

Defeated, she sighed. "Sure." She wanted to further insult him on how much of a pussy he was, but he flipped out his cell phone and speed dialed a number. She impatiently stood there, cheek against the cold wall.

"Eriol." He said frankly. Her emerald gaze snapped towards him. "I need a cover, as well as a chopper."

She flinched. Hell no. She caught the buzz of a reply on the other line, but the voice wasn't clear enough for her to understand. She strained to listen, trying to pick up on the language this Eriol was speaking. She knew it was Chinese, but it came out diffused and unrecognizable.

"I'll explain everything later. Can you just provide those two things for me?" He leaned onto her casually, something that made her want to kick him in the balls. She was still in a position where she couldn't move, and her arms were bound behind her back. There was no doubt, now, that this guy meant serious business. His warm breath caressed her cheek as he hung up the phone. He gently guided her off the wall.

She stared at him with disbelief. This guy was too nice. Or maybe he was just that stupid. She should have been treated like the lowest of the low, by now. She was officially a captive. She came to the topic of how she had failed Tomoyo. Then it clicked. What were they going to do to Tomoyo?

"What are you going to do with Zǐse Wu Ya?" She decided it would be wise not to use her real name. His amber orbs watched her for a second. Realization sparked across him.

"Oh, you're talking about that cousin of yours." He had stated the obvious. She really wished he would hurry up in telling her something—anything. He had to make them wait and add unnecessary words. Maybe a way of stalling her so he could figure out what he was going to say that actually mattered.

"It depends on who she is to you." His peered at the auburn haired woman searchingly. "Is she really your cousin?"

"Answer my questions before I start answering yours." That was a lie. She wasn't willing to answer any of his questions at all. Syaoran smirked sheepishly.

"If she's Japanese, too, then I'm not sure at all." He seemed to be pondered.

"She's not." She lied smoothly.

"How?"

"It's complicated." She returned.

"Well, I guess we'd just let her walk, then." He really would give up that easily? It annoyed her. He wasn't about to hang it over her head that she was captured and they're going to kill her cousin. He wasn't going to rub it in at all. She would have.

"No you wouldn't. She was here with me, so you have to suspect her of something." She was going to get it out of him. He wasn't as stupid as to let Tomoyo walk. He enjoyed playing the Stupid Game, though.

"I do." He confirmed her suspicions. "I immediately connected you and her as allies, but I have you. You're all I need. I can care less who your friend is." He sounded so free. Happy, even.

But, that didn't cover up how blind he was being. He really had no idea who Tomoyo was. It's not like she was going to sell her out and get her caught, too, though. She didn't press the issue any further. It came across her that if he knew who Tomoyo was, his own organization would dominate over Daidouji Institute. With their leader in custody, who knows what would be in store for Japan's future? He was probably missing one of the biggest opportunities of his life. Just by saying he wanted her.

"You're a stupid fool." She said under her breath.

He chuckled seductively. "I know."

A bitch and a fool. It had a ring to it.

--

**A/N: Thanks for those of you who waited to see this very late, horrible update. X.x As I promised, though… some SxS... I think. XD**

**  
I'm torturing myself in making these longer… I noticed the chapters are kind of short, so please let me know how I'm doing on length!**

**Please review!**

**  
~Chilo**


	7. Interrogation

**A/N: I changed the summary in hopes of their being more hits and reviews. Thanks for those who did review and faved Blood and Bullets. :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura, CLAMP does.**

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**  
Chapter VII**

**  
Interrogation**

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_Things were always very frustrating. It was so hard to talk to someone because no one understood. _

_How do you converse with someone who thinks you're a liar?_

_You don't._

_In the midst of the dark, Sakura sat, down casted. Nothing in the room seemed to have a color. The carpet was the same as the walls. The same as the messy bed. The same as the little light radiating through her window._

_She had her knees pulled up to her chest, arms folded over them, head resting upon them. She had placed herself in the corner, just next to her closet. She was flanked by her dresser._

_She was twelve years old, and her brother nor father were anywhere to be seen. She was tired. Very tired._

_They were no where to be seen or heard of until she heard the front door open. She hugged tighter onto herself, hoping it wasn't one person in particular. She would care less if either had come. She deeply despised both, but would have much rathered one be home than the other. She cursed herself and her luck as she heard the crashing of glass split the dim air._

_A jolt ran through her as she heard her bedroom door swung open and hit the wall. The impact it made sent a cold sensation running down her spine. She grimaced as footsteps neared her. Glass hit her carpet, the material dampening the sound to a minor thump. She hadn't looked up. She already knew it was her father._

_She scooted closer to her closet, shivering and uneasy._

_Ever since her mother had died, things didn't look up for her family. Her father dropped his job and became an alcoholic. She was sure drugs followed after that. No one was naturally a lunatic. Or were they?_

_She already knew it was her fault. Did he have to remind her daily that it was her existence that killed Nadeshiko Kinomoto? Did she deserve to be violated and hurt on a regular basis when this man was home? She couldn't call this place home at all. It was a hell. And she couldn't leave it._

_She was sick of it. She was sick of this man. She was sick of trying to tell her brother exactly what kind of a person their father was. She was sick of being looked down upon, sick of being the liar of the family, sick of being subjected to rape, sick of the thoughts of suicide, and sick of her lifestyle in all. She didn't remember when it was good to live._

_They say life is a given, and shouldn't be taken for granted. What was life when you can't experience it?_

_There were numerous things stopping her from living it. The biggest obstacle of that field was standing before her. _

_Who was she really going to tell about her father's actions? No one took her seriously. She was just a kid. It made her sick that just because she hadn't lived as long as others, it made her automatically a little snot that didn't know anything. Apparently, everything she said was an over exaggeration and she was making things up._

_  
It was like a horror movie, in many ways, but more common one way than the rest; there's a monster. No one believes you. It's so cliché._

_The people who don't believe the main character in the horror movie generally die first. They usually all die. They were killed because of their stupidity. That sounded like a wonderful solution. Stupid people deserve to die, don't they?_

_But, the monster had to die, too._

_She dared to look up, the static, emotionless face meeting her own quivering body. She didn't say anything, cautious from the warning he had given her about him hating the sound of her voice. Sakura, sadly, had noticed that he was clenching a broken beer bottle. She swallowed, the dark material seeming to grin at her threateningly._

"_You still haven't run away yet?"_

_Disgustingly mocking. His words slurred together. He was drunk. She couldn't believe she feared this sorry excuse for a man. Yet, he held such power over her._

_He brought up a good point._

_Running away sounded like a great idea, but she could only imagine what would happen, had she been caught and taken back to this hell._

_She wasn't able do as much as breathe as she was pulled up by her shirt roughly. Almost instinctively, she gave out a yelp._

_She hated being so defenseless._

_She was harshly forced against the wall behind her, refusing to let the tears fall._

_Tears were a sign of weakness to him. She didn't want to lower her position in the world any more than it already was._

_Pure hate for his man wrangled inside her. It burned her deeply, making her want to scream out and punch and kick at him. The fury boiled in her blood, yet she reflected none of that fury. She grew hot, as if the temperature in the room had risen two hundred degrees. Everything became a blur._

_The next thing she knew, he had slipped and landed on the floor in a flurry to grab onto her and navigate her across the room._

_She hadn't even noticed she moved._

_She stumbled, herself, landing on her hands and knees. Her breathing was hard, and her throat dry. Emerald orbs landed a glimmering shape of broken glass. She reached forward for it, unknowing of the pain that should have greeted her as she clenched abnormally tight onto the shard. It buried deep within her hand, blood oozing around her grasp. She was nearly able to taste the metallic liquid. _

_She stood slowly, everything seeming to be on fire._

_He recovered with difficulty, lunging at her threatfully. He yelled incoherent words at her, all of which was cut short as the glass piece pierced his throat. She menacingly twisted the object, adrenaline coursing through her uncontrollably. She felt light headed. Dizzy._

_Despite the weight of the man collapsed on top of her, her shoulders already felt like feather weights._

--

Emerald orbs slowly parted open, only to be greeted by everlasting darkness. She gave herself time to adjust, attempting to stretch her limbs. Handcuffs pulled the force back together, causing the auburn haired woman to grunt unsatisfactorily.

She shuffled in her chair, finding that it wasn't permanently stationed in one place. She tried to recall previous events, annoyed as she caught onto them.

That bastard.

Cocky, arrogant, masochistic, lunatic, fucking son-of-a-bitch.

Cursing didn't make her feel any more accomplished over the turn of events. She impatiently waited in her chair, everything around her soaked in shadows.

A red light flashed at the corner of the room, of which she had guessed was a camera. The lenses gave no glare, but she was sure whoever was watching her had a clear insight on her actions. The lights flickered on in the room, a sick, bright light tearing through her vision. She shielded her eyes with her lids, her gaze unmoving from the camera. Her emerald orbs became animated as she further inspected her surroundings, disgusting white walls and a stained gray floor meeting her gaze. A table stretched in front of her, the lone surface dully gleaming in the lighting.

She couldn't turn and look at the door that had opened behind her. She could thank the hand cuffs for that. She got a moment to look down at herself, sickened that she was still wearing her qipao. Her auburn-honey tresses were disorderly curled around her face. She mentally sighing, knowing she looked like an absolute mess.

She heard four pairs of shoes shuffle through the room. She kept her expression even, sighing uneasily. Her emerald orbs especially locked onto a specific chocolate locked man as four men entered the confined space. Pure hate seared through her. It made her even more angry at how simply smug he looked. She wouldn't hesitate, now, in slicing that stupid smirk off his face.

A man with azure hair and cyan optics gazed over her. She could automatically feel he was the one in charge here. The way he held himself was much more superior compared to the others, whom stances seemed much more submissive. Especially Mr. Masochist. It was like a pack of dogs, lead down to the lowly omega.

The cyan eyed man rounded the table, his gaze never leaving her. It quickly flickered towards Syaoran, who didn't even budge from his position. The chocolate locked man's eyes never left her figure. It made her a bit uncomfortable how, at times, his eyes only ever seemed to be on her.

She shot him a dirty look back, his smugness only smashing into amusement.

"I'd like for you to answer truthfully to my questions, now, miss." Eriol stated strongly in Japanese, grabbing her attention. She slowly turned towards him, clearly uninterested in what he had to say. He crouched over her, pulling the flap of his suit over his belt, resting his fingers in between the leather strap and his tucked-in white collared shirt.

"Why not?" She covered back. He raised a brow, suspiciousness seeping into him. "I've done nothing wrong, after all." Sakura added.

"I'd like to know exactly who you work for, now. The Japanese don't usually attend Chinese political parties just to be friends, now, do they?" He stuffed his hands into his pockets, tilting his head observantly. She didn't know what it was about his mood, but he clearly didn't seem too happy.

"Is it so bad to want to be friends?" She murmured to herself, shoulders sinking. "I guess so… look at what it's got me into." Sakura answered her own question, leaning back into her chair uncomfortably.

Eriol slit his cyan optics, yet still managed to keep a level, controlled appearance. "Who are you?" He inquired, though he already knew it wouldn't be getting an answer. He'd hate to go into deeper interrogation with her, but that was underestimating the enemy. Japanese or not, she was a threat and should be dealt with as he would anyone else. It didn't make him too pleased to imagine her body bruised and limp.

"I don't have a name." She thinly mustered, her emerald orbs pulling from his figure. He sighed inwardly, sitting up straight.

"Li." Eriol shot a stiff glance towards his companion. She didn't budge her gaze from where it rested, still feeling his eyes burning into her. It was getting pretty nauseating, actually.

"Right." Syaoran pushed back towards his azure haired superior. He casually strode on behind her, placing his hand leisurely onto the back of her chair. The thud it made alerted every single one of her senses. She was ready for anything.

She was already visualizing his rugged features, seeing his eyes lazily peering down upon her, a smirk pulling a corner of his lips up. How she wished she could break free from her handcuffs, reach up, and punch him in his face. She was all but powerless, now. She was very plausibly never getting out of this place alive. Sakura was more than positive that Tomoyo had no idea where she was, considering they were in enemy territory at the time of her sheer disappearance.

He huffed, obviously too amused to know what to do with himself.

She swallowed dryly, waiting for the questions to come pouring back in again. To her annoyance, the questions hadn't yet reached her ears.

"Permission to continue this interrogation alone?" It was a question, but not for her. She finally felt his eyes pry off of her, much to her relief. She clenched her teeth together, expression blank and seemingly untampered with. She took a second to briefly overlook the azure haired man, massively perked as he nodded towards the chocolate locked man. She wanted to protest, but wisely decided against it.

He spoke over his shoulder, commanding the other two guards whom had entered the room with him. As much as he hadn't wanted to leave the room, he didn't have too much of a choice, otherwise. It was funny how he was the superior, yet he practically put control into the masochist's hands. He knew Syaoran, though, and he obviously had something up his sleeve.

--

"Hiiragizawa Eriol," the raven haired woman spoke over the hum of computers and mad typing clicks. "It's a start, but I want everything on him. This is only a secondary priority, though, next to Li Syaoran." She paced the line of workers, amethyst eyes missing nothing.

How could she have been so stupid?

"Stations B3 and B4, concentrate on Hiiragizawa Eriol. Everyone else, the first priority is yours." She uncrossed her arms, taking one last scan around the room before sighing agitatedly. "I better get full reports on both by the end of this evening, is that understood?"

She didn't need to wait a second longer before their reply came. "Yes, ma'am." Her workers responded in unison.

She clearly had sensed something awkward, yet she barely did anything at the time to help the situation any more. Had she moved quickly enough, she was sure she could have changed something.

There was nothing she could do about it now but find Sakura. And she wouldn't rest until that happened.

--

The door clicked closed, her jaws starting to hurt from the pressure exerted on them. Her emerald orbs never left the floor. She was fully aware that there was still an activated camera in the room. He was just as aware as she was.

With satisfaction, he ran his fingers through his chocolate locks slowly, changing their flowing direction. They ruffled under his touch, the mere threads falling into different directions. The tips of his fingers brushed the back of his neck, his train of thought seeming lost. His intense amber eyes never pulled from her immobile figure. He dropped his hand from his neck, solely leaning his weight onto the back of her chair.

"Comfortable?" he breathed just above a whisper, causing her to flinch bitterly.

It was a simple question, but she would be able to answer it truthfully. "No."

He chuckled distantly, removing his weight from her seat, flexing his shoulders. He made a circular motion around her, those lazy amber eyes she had pictured boring into her. She looked up at him, only knowing it would give him pleasure, with the attention and what not.

"You look comfortable enough to me. I mean, we have hearts, you know?" He seemed like he was beginning to go on a never ending streak of rambles, something she knew he did often to stall any situation. She didn't have time to loose, nor the energy to tell him to get on with it, so she sat while his voice went practically no where. "We could have placed you in a much warmer environment, no air conditioning at all. You can be sitting in a pile of nails and bolts, a strong light raining down upon you, the rest of the room black. You're still on the spotlight, though. I'd say."

She blinked sluggishly, as if her eyes had done the sighing for her. Cause and effect, he smiled sheepishly. He placed his hands behind them, reclining them onto the table. His fingers curled over the edges as he placed one leg over the other, sliding his weight onto the unmoving table. Syaoran's attention was distorted, his eyes shifting from her to the ceiling as he tapped a rhythmless beat onto the wood. This gave her just the briefest chance to skim him from head to toe.

He was dressed in a long-sleeved collared shirt, which was tucked in at his pant line. Its white and light blue stripped pattern ran all the way around it. He left two of the ten or so buttons undone, a plain olive green tie loosely fastened around his neck, which was wrapped up with a beige bandage. A utility belt wrapped around his frame. She immediately spotted _her_ M9 and _her_ knife. And they were on _him_.

The sight didn't make her too pleased, but she had to admit… the rest of him was obvious eye candy.

Had he always looked like this?

She must have been pretty _involved_ not to notice.

"Well, how about it?" He inquired openly. Her eyes were netted back towards his face, his chin tilting down just far enough to where amber could meet emerald. She hadn't replied, so he moved on. "Got a name?"

"Turn the camera off." She commanded stagnantly, her gaze flicking towards the device before it returned to him. He raised a brow, bemused at her order. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. He cocked his head back, amber shifting to peer at the lenses.

Syaoran chuckled, his tapping ceasing. "You heard her." He shrugged, as if he were caught in a corner and had nothing else to do. A sort of shrug that bodily said, "Well, I don't know what to do now, so just do what she says". The red light, as if hesitantly, died off. The soft buzz of the device seemed to disappear into the forgotten along with it.

He unhurriedly slipped his eyes to her, his smirk still evident on his features. "Happy, _Cherry Blossom_?"

Her eyes dulled exponentially at his question. "Don't _ever_ call me that again." She whispered hotly, as if something had possessed her. It was really starting to get annoying, after all. He chuckled again, inhaling deeply.

"Wow. That sent chills down my spine." He teased, reaching up with one of his hands to tug on his collar. Her expression was unchanging as she silently watched him mutter something about being touchy.

"How many people do you deal with on a daily basis that actually walk away from you sane?" She asked, wondering what his answer could possibly be.

"Quite a lot walk away from me sane, if it's not on the battlefield." He laughed awkwardly to himself.

She didn't seem convinced, but shrugged it off. "Do you have ADD?"

He pondered the question, studying her. "No." his reply came matter-of-factly.

"Perhaps you're just bipolar, then." She tried to shuffled in her chair, but found it hard to do so. Instead, she just sat there. "Because I can have a serious conversation with you, then you can act like such and_ idiot_ another time."

He crossed his arms, puzzled, and placed his chin in between the curve of his thumb and index finger, relaxing his head. "That's possible."

"Schizophrenic?" He seemed delusional.

"I thought it might be fun to be a schizo. However, it's not contagious."

She paused, staring at him blankly.

"What?"

She shook her head, sighing hopelessly. "Ever thought about how utterly insane you seem?"

"Compared to a lot of people, I'm quite normal." He shrugged.

"That's true, minus the masochistic part." She agreed. He nodded slowly. There was a moment of silence.

Wait.

That felt like a conversation, much less an interrogation on him. She went over what she had said, finding that it sounded too casual.

"How about your full name?" She fit in after a while. He scanned her, head leaning the other way.

"Only if you'll give me your's." He returned.

"Fair enough." She shrugged.

"On three, then?" The chocolate locked masochist offered. He didn't expect her to reply back. She gave him a "get on with it" glare and decided against waiting for her to say anything.

"One," he paused, his eyes rolling up and down her frame. He noticed her visibly shiver, sending black butterflies through him. "two," he paused again, throwing on a smile. "three."

There was a silence as neither said a thing.

"I didn't think that was going to work." He admitted after the silence had stretched for long enough. "Good try, though." Syaoran added.

She looked away, feeling too mentally tired to deal with it.

"How about we count together?" He tried a second time, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Her emerald eyes lingered back to him. He nodded as she gave another one of those "get on with it" looks. He parted his lips, watching for her part in the deal. "One," he was satisfied that she said it with him, weakly, but surely. "two," and just shortly after both said three, their part played hand in hand with one another.

"Kinomoto."

"Syaoran."

Another pause followed. "Sakura Kinomoto." He tested the name on his tongue, similar to the fashion he had done the first time she had told him her first name. He smiled widely. "It's a start. A pleasure, _Sakura Kinomoto_." He inclined his head, just enough to show proper respect. She did nothing in turn, remaining as silent as air.

He snapped his middle finger and this thumb together, as if he had realized something. "That's a great idea!" He announced as if he had found a cure for cancer. "We can play a game." He held up his index finger for emphasis. "Q&A, I believe it's called?"

She was already pretty much fishing things out of him, not finding much use for a "Q&A". Nonetheless, the usual annoyance seeped in at his stupidity. She ignored him, finding his maturity at fault.

"I ask a question, you have to answer it. You ask a question, I have to answer it. Simple?" He concluded. It sounded fair, but she doubted that this came would go fairly. On her behalf, that is.

"Ladies first, then?" Sakura spoke up at her gaze slid onto him. He seemed quite content at her agreement to the game. He tilted his head, placing his hands back on the table behind him.

"Of course, of course." He purred.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Where am I?" It was a start. One question, and the deck would be turned back to her.

"Where I work." He answered smartly, appeased greatly.

She twitched, unhappy with his reply. "Can you be more specific?" She had a feeling he wouldn't play this game too fairly in turn.

It was just as she had thought. "One question at a time, honey." He winked at her. She frowned, naturally slipping into her pouty face. It surprised him quite a bit; just as he was about to speak, words failed to come, leaving his mouth hanging open. Both of his brows rose, her now _too _innocent being tearing a hole in him. It was more powerful than when she was giving him the Look of Satan.

"Quality's supposed to count over quantity, _Syaoran_. I just got gyp'd." She spoke in a small voice as she managed one of her sly smirks in turn. His breathing was held for a good five seconds before he tore his gaze away from her.

_Damn._

That was hot.

The way she said his name suddenly made the room a little warmer.

He tried to remember where they were. "If we're going to be working together," he swallowed, trying to put a finger on their location. "I guess I should share that we're in the midst of Li Corporations."

She raised a brow at the conveniency of his last name and their location. She decided to put it aside, for now. Li was a common Chinese surname. She tried to focus more on exactly _where _this Li Corporations was when the first part of his answer brought her to another issue. "We're not going to be working together." She assured.

He shrugged. "It'd be much appreciated if you would help me in on this. I promise there'd be something in it for you." He stated solidly. That perked her interest.

"What's in it for me, again?" She tried.

He parted his lips, halting his words mid-breath. His amber eyes narrowed perspectively as he continued. He didn't seem to notice she asked an extra question. "What if I told you something you didn't want to hear?"

"Answer my question first." She smirked.

He mirrored her action as well, recalling the rules of Q&A once more. "Whatever you want to be, really." His voice was daring—deep and rich—amazingly inviting.

"Ask your question." She had her next one ready, already impatient to answer his.

"Hmm…" his eyes slyly slid over her as he raised his brow indignantly. She searched him, wondering if was pausing because he didn't have a question or if he was pausing to be stupid.

"This game's getting boring." He decided, shuffling his shoulders smoothly. He turned, facing the table. He stretched his arms, laying his hands flat on the surface. His gaze slid around the room as he looked at nothing in particular.

Her eye twitched.

That's when an idea hit her.

She shuffled in her chair, cocking her head at an angle. Emerald lazily scanned him.

"I can make it fun again." Her soft alto came, alluring and guileful.

A fresh jolt of cold ran down his spine. He dramatically glanced over his shoulder, back at her. Amusement seeped into him. No matter the situation, she always managed to say or do something that caught him off guard. Her, being confusing to read, alone, provided a fun game, indeed. He was constantly wondering what she was going to do next. To be quite frank, he immensely enjoyed her company, even though she probably wanted him dead and nothing more.

"Can you really?" The chocolate locked masochist whispered dangerously.

Her lashes coolly drooped above her emerald orbs. The smallest of smirks edged the corner of her mouth up. She noticeably (and rather teasingly) eyed his back side, bringing her gaze down and up again sluggishly. "Well, depends," she closed her eyes, cursing at herself mentally. She leaned her head back, auburn tresses flowing with the movement. She casted her devastating spell as she revealed her emeralds once again, pulling her chin downwards. "you want to take these handcuffs off me?"

His brows pulled together as another wave of winter washed through him (is it a rush of blood that does that?). He hadn't realized his breathing had picked up pace. The man only stared at her incredulously, as if she had asked for world domination.

In times of choices, he'd always been known for making smart ones. Solid, reasonable, life-or-death making choices. He pondered the side he was on for a moment, questioning his loyalty to China. He knew very well she was the enemy, yet he was ready to reach towards distances in which others would never imagine. He was willing to take hold of this new sort of forbidden fruit that no one had dared taste before. He was ready to offer an alliance with her, all of which whom was Japanese.

Surely, he would be punished greatly for this, had someone figured out.

He saw the audacity, the true meaning of a hypocrite lighting his name.

Syaoran realized punishment was rendered pointless. He had already committed all seven sins. If he were to die, be it by execution, the battleground, or himself, it would be only a fraction for this crime here. Why not add to the accumulating pile?

He smiled fiendishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Do you promise to make it fun?" He stood up, reaching onto his belt to fish a pair of standard cuff keys.

Sakura felt as if she didn't need to answer the question. She only waited impatiently for him to break the bonds holding her wrists together. She rolled her eyes as he unnecessarily reached over her, his shirt on his chest brushing against her cheek as she turned her head away from him. He chuckled faintly, satisfied as both of the metal pieces fell from her hands. He hooked his finger onto the chains connecting the bent, silver binds. He withdrawaled, twirling the metal pieces. "Better, honey?" He cooed smoothly.

"Much." She stretched her arms out in front of her, watching him carefully as he clipped the handcuffs to his side. He slipped the keys onto his belt, where they belonged. He took a swift glance back at the camera, just out of curiosity, to see if it had been turned back on. It showed no signs of life, still.

He felt a tug at his waist, attention snapping back towards the chair. It stood non vacant. He wasn't surprised when she held up her M9 to his throat, indeed feeling it was gone from his hoister. Static clicks sounded, chilling metal clipping around his wrists.

He smiled widely, chuckling with amusement. She pushed the barrel of the gun to his neck harder, herding him around her. His amber orbs never left her emerald ones. "Now what're you doing?" Syaoran murmured, feeling that, like many of his other questions he asked her, he wasn't going to get an answer.

Yet, she did answer.

"I'm making this game more fun." She stated mockingly, as if it were the easiest thing to know in the world.

He didn't fight her as he was guided into the chair roughly. She covered the distant between them quickly as soon as he sat into the seat, sitting on his lap sideways. She reached behind him, and in a flash, he was the one handcuffed to the chair. She tossed the gun aside, pressing her hand to his chest and dragging it down towards his waist. His eye twitched. He peered down, feeling sweat on his brow as she slowly slid her knife from his belt. It definitely got warmer in the room. She inspected the blade, missing the feeling of the hilt clenched in her hand.

"How long do you think I have before someone comes in and checks up on us, _Syaoran_?" She coated her voice with sweet, sweet sugar, running the face of the blade against his cheek. She definitely didn't want someone walking in during this.

He snickered silently, his eyes finally leaving her figure. His head shook back and forth a good few times, a smirk evident on his handsome features. His gaze never rested on anything for more than a good five seconds. Considering there weren't many things in the room, his gaze constantly shifted from one thing, then back to another, then back to the other. "I don't know." He finally admitted. It seemed like he hadn't registered the question at first.

"You seem a bit uneasy." She noted out loud, dragging the knife delicately down his cheek. She lined his neck, careful not to make an incision. He closed his eyes, indeed, uneasily.

"Uneasy? Why would I have any reason to be uneasy?" he inquired in a low voice, raggedly taking in a breath or two.

"Why would you?" She asked emptily, emerald eyes slitting. "Well," she reached down, her hand gliding up his olive green tie. She tugged on it, maneuvering her knife to where his head turned towards her, his full attention nowhere else. "as I was going to say before you 'ended' our game of Q&A, I want to know what you mean."

He growled as her grip on his tie rubbed the fabric against the back of his bandaged neck. She forced herself to be amazingly patient as he fought the sensation of 'pain'. He managed to give her a reply between snickers. "You have to be more specific when it comes to question making. How will I know how to answer it?"

Her small shoulders drooped. "I'm talking about when you said that if I helped you, 'whatever I wanted' could be given to me in exchange."

"What about it?" He murmured.

"I want to know what you mean by it." She felt like she was talking to a three year old.

"Well, it's pretty self-explanatory, don't you think?" The chocolate locked man pried his gaze from her.

"No, it isn't." She bit. "Would _you _be the one supply my needs, _if_ I were to help you?"

"Whatever you wanted?" He asked to what seemed like himself.

"_Yes_, dammit." She hissed with annoyance. Sakura clenched onto her knife hilt. She tilted it to where the sharp side lightly grazed his skin. "Don't you think that's kind of cheap to offer? Considering how valuable my services could be."

He eyed her expectantly before turning his gaze away again. "I guess I'm only putting myself up for check when I say you could get whatever you wanted. And I think it's quite useful, considering my values, as well."

"I'm sure you have limits. It's also cheap because I can get anyone else to do what I wanted. That, I'm positive of." She took a glance over him, relaxing herself a fraction. "What do you think makes you so special? You wouldn't be able to provide anything I'd ask for. You'd be a trouble. A fly. A burden I'd wish I could wipe away, but no. I'd have to deal with you because you want to stop some stupid war, and my prize is supposed to be some idiot's time, whom I happen to loath."

He smiled distantly—like it had no existence or meaning on him at all.

"If it would make you feel better," he turned his head back towards her, the blade slithering into his skin. He flinched, a smirk lighting and dying away quickly on his features as the red liquid flowed hesitantly down his cheek. "you could just ask me to die. That's what you want, correct?"

She gritted her teeth together and pulled the knife from his flesh. He moaned deeply, his head sinking down. "Why do that when I can kill you myself?"

He laughed at this. "You're being so difficult." He mustered.

"You're being difficult." She whispered dully back. "Stopping a war because it sounds fun?" She paused, trying to find sense in his reasoning. "You're difficult and crazy." She concluded. "Why stop it when you know China is more than likely to come out the victor?"

"Why don't you want to stop it when you know Japan's going to be destroyed?" He calmly fought on the matter, inclining his head to peer at her, curiosity staining his amber orbs. When she didn't answer, his masculine voice continued, hushed and content. "I want to stop it for many of small reasons—very small reasons, but still notes to my cause." When she didn't say anything after a second wait, he continued to fill the atmosphere with his voice, as if he was talking to himself.

"Orders," he disliked the word on his tongue. "there's too many orders. Eriol, my commanding officer and friend, offered me a place to stay here at Li Corporations as well as give me a 'real' job. Times of war calls for more arms, right? Well, I fit the requirements for a soldier and practically belong on the line of battle, having been a mercenary for half my life, so I rose in rank. I don't want to follow so many orders, okay? War calls for lots of orders. Does that work for you?" His tone was a little more demanding—angered. She was moved, a bit shocked by his reaction. He didn't wait this time for her reply, ripping his eyes from her as he leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

He sighed audibly, eyes tracing invisible pictures. "Things are too hectic for my liking." He sounded annoyed, much less angry. "Things _move _too fast." Syaoran closed his amber eyes. "I _hate_ having this sort of responsibility on my shoulders. I want to go back to the simple life, just killing people who I'm told to kill. I can't just _drop _out right now."

He exhaled again, the sound shaky. "I signed a contract. I signed a good two years of my life away to a fucking saint. Eriol's all for what's right, my freedom is just so _gone _around him_._ Distant." His chocolate locks hid his eyes; his forehead leaned down far enough to the point where he could rest his head on her shoulder. Her arms slinked down as she let her grasp on his tie loose. She let it fall back to his chest. For a moment, she sat there, unknowing of what to do of his choice in position. She decided to just sit there, tensed. His musky scent washed over her, teasing every single one of her senses.

"Nothing's normal in times of war." He muttered, shifting his head to look down at the knife she had locked in her grip. She raised a brow, placing her free hand on the back of his neck. She brushed her finger tips over the bandages, finding her way up to his chocolate hair. She ruffled it forward, the strands freely moving amongst her touch.

She registered he was chuckling, the tune of his laughter no longer making her annoyed or give her the need to want to kill him. "What's so funny?" She tried a different approach, instead, a light whisper. His chuckle became a little stronger before dying back a bit.

"Ugh," he managed between bursts of air. "I don't even fucking know anymore." He sighed heavily. "It's so pointless." She continued to run her fingers through the threads of his hair, flattening it and ruffling it to where it stood up. She watched, the anatomy making not a lick of sense to her. She still managed to listen to him intently. "People like you can be living a normal life." He smiled without meaning.

Sakura tilted her head. "You sound thoughtful." She commented, just exactly on what she wouldn't expect from the masochist. He reclined his head, amber eyes piercing through her questioningly.

"Thoughtful?" He was confused.

She looked away from him, unable to hold his intense gaze. She knew all well he wouldn't take his eyes off her. She tried to find words to explain herself. The one-worded question was difficult to answer. "For others." She simply gave.

"Oh." He blinked, matching what he said with her words. "I can just imagine how much less complex things could be." When his eyes left her, she drew her's back to him. Her emerald orbs softened as she withdrew her hand from his hair, running her index finger down the fresh cut marked on his cheek. The corner of his mouth twitched. He swallowed hard, gritting his teeth together.

"You're all about things being simple, hmm?" She whispered provocatively.

He leaned his hand back, a frown creasing his lips. "Whatever works."

She inspected him thoughtfully, feeling as though she were at a dead end. What was she to do now? She was no where she knew and was bound to get caught like this sooner or later. She didn't find she had much of a choice in a situation like this.

"Do you have a plan?" She leaned over and cooed gently into his ear. She was going to regret this, but she was going to have to depend on him for now. He nodded stiffly, his gaze still focused on something else, his shoulders tense.

"Well, it better be solid," she poked at his wounded cheek, smirking faintly. "_partner_."

--

**A/N: Holeh.. I've been working like crazy to try and get this out. X.x It ended up much longer than I expected. ('tis 16 pages. ._0) Hope you guys liked it, though! :3**

**Happy zombie Jesus day!**

**Please review!  
**

**~Chilo**


	8. Author's Note

**A/N: **I am discontinuing this story due to the explained reasons on my profile. I don't want to leave you guys hanging anymore, and the updates say everything. I'm so sorry if I got anyone excited, but I will not be continuing with this story.


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